Take Me
by dmnq8
Summary: 1902, New York. Danger and intrigue surround him on all sides, but at the heart of a perilous game of cat and mouse, Uchiha Itachi learns the meaning of surrender. Yaoi. Neji/Ita. AU. Sequel to Save Me. Disclaimer in my profile. For Garmiet.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So. Last summer, when I posted the first chap of Save Me, there followed a period of about 2 months before the second chapter was posted. I will try to update this on a weekly basis as I later did with Save Me, but expect a slow start, just like last summer. Tons on my plate. I'm slowly but surely working through my WIPs, but please continue to be patient.

This chapter is short, I know. There will be more detail in later chaps, I promise. That said, I would like to mention here that I will strive to give this fic an authentic feel of turn of the century New York.

Beta: none.

* * *

><p><strong>Take Me<strong>

Chapter 1

Itachi stood in his room, arms tightly crossed, as he stared out at the heavily falling snow. He saw none of it, instead replaying in his mind the events of yesterday and the subsequent sleepless night.

-oOo-

_"There's a woman here," Neji had walked into his den and announced. "She walked right in, says she's your mother? And…there's a man with her."_

_Itachi was already walking around his desk and out of his den. His mother? She hadn't sent any word ahead telling of her arrival. Come to think of it, he hadn't had a letter from her in over five months. He'd had no idea where she was. It had crossed his mind that perhaps she'd fallen ill and died. And what man was with her? Itachi quickened his pace, feeling Neji move silently at his back._

_His mother was standing calmly in the foyer, holding the arm of a man Itachi's own morally corrupt father had warned him about._

_"Itachi, son," Mikoto said in her low voice. "I'd like you to meet my husband and your new father. He'll be running this family from now on."_

_Itachi stared hard his 'step-father' as he came forward. _

_"Uchiha Madara," this man intoned by way of a greeting. His eyes moved to the tall shadow standing in the entryway, correctly assessing any and all possible threats in his vicinity. "I'll want to see all your accounting books as soon as your servant there has brought me and my bride a pot of tea."_

_There was a glint in Madara's eyes that Itachi instinctively interpreted as a lack of humanity. This was one threat to his life he wouldn't be able to escape by staging his own death. _

-oOo-_  
><em>

The tea had been brought. Madara insisted on it being served in their best China. He'd further ordered Itachi to sit in front of him as he sipped. Mikoto sat to his left and slightly behind him. Her head was bowed, her hands folded demurely in her lap. Neji stood behind Itachi's shoulder.

"Your servant now belongs to and works for me," Madara had informed Itachi. He grimaced at his tea. "This tea isn't hot enough. Bring another pot." He waved at Neji to remove the tray.

Itachi had neither confirmed nor denied Madara's assumption that Neji now worked for him. The man would learn soon enough that he was wrong. Sooner, since Neji chose to display his loyalty without hesitation and remain standing where he was. Itachi had to cover his mouth to hide a wayward smirk. He mastered himself quickly, as he crossed his legs in his chair. "Madara."

Madara quirked one brow at the lack of respect.

"It seems you're under the impression that you can take control of the Uchiha fortune simply by marrying my mother."

"I can and have," Madara stated. "Fugaku left a will stating that his wife was to receive control of the family's money and property upon his death. As he is dead, the fortune and business have passed to her. She has, quite correctly, signed them over to me."

Itachi's face froze in a mask of fury. "My father would never have done such a thing. Control of the family's interests pass to me upon his death, if he is in fact dead. Regardless, several family members have come together and voted me into the position of Patriarch. You-"

"I assure you, he is dead," Madara said mildly. "I had him killed myself, just as I had him alter his will before I did so. I've already sent a copy, along with proof of your father's death, to the proper authorities and your lawyer. I imagine he'll be contacting you some time during the next few days. Incidentally, it was my men who voted you into office. I saw you as a suitable temporary custodian while I dealt with your father. He proved most stubborn, or I would have been here much sooner."

Itachi felt ice course through him, but he controlled his shudder. His father had been alive? Alive and tortured. He hadn't loved his father, but it wrenched to know how he'd suffered before his death. He looked at his mother's lowered face. "You were never traveling with a female companion, were you. You were with this monster. How could you marry him after he tortured Father for control of the family? Did he force you?"

Madara laid a hand on her knee. Apparently, this was a signal she understood; she didn't answer Itachi. "As I was saying," Madara continued. "You were able to take partial control while I was seeing to Fugaku, but now I'll need you to hand everything over to me. I have the documents here for your signature." He reached into the breast pocket of his suit.

Itachi eyed the folded papers, noting that they were heavy with their superior quality and emblazoned with the Uchiha family crest. "If my mother has signed over the majority of our assets to you, what could you want with my share?" And why hadn't his lawyer informed him of the take over, he thought but didn't say.

"I must have everything in order to run the family smoothly."

"The family _is _running smoothly, under my care."

Madara's eyes were hard. "Sign the papers, Itachi. It really would be best for all involved."

Itachi met Madara's eyes unflinchingly. "I refuse."

The evening hadn't ended there of course. He'd been politely informed that he could be persuaded, as his father had, to see the error of his ways. Neji had calmly stepped in front of him at that point.

Madara had studied this development. "A Hyuuga. An exile, no less, if you are the one I suspect you are. No one will miss you when you disappear," he'd said to Neji.

Itachi had stood and put a light, restraining hand up in front Neji. "I've heard enough. Madara, I will be contacting the proper authorities in the morning. I suggest you take yourself off my property before then. My mother stays. Try to coerce me into anything, in any way, and you will regret it." He'd turned for the door, Neji backing out of the room after him.

"How is Sasuke? My informant tells me they are in Panama. He was on _Destiny_ when it left New York on the first of the year. Don't worry to try warning him," Madara said when Itachi whirled from the door, eyes wide. "I have people in Kakashi's office, whom that Naruto character is associated with, and in various places in Panama. Any one of them can take Sasuke out at the slightest word from me. And if you don't sign over your share of this family to me I will do just that. I doubt that thick-headed brute he's living with will be able to protect him, either. My men are trained in Japan, in the old ways. He'll never see them coming."

Itachi had stood in the doorway, shaking and speechless, until Madara had smiled and given him permission to leave. "Sleep on it," Madara had said. "I'll expect to hear from you in the morning."

* * *

><p>It was an hour before dawn now. He knew the rustle of movement behind him to be Neji without turning around. He turned anyway, and found that his assistant cum servant, usually fastidiously groomed, looked as haggard as he himself felt.<p>

During the past year his relationship with Neji had grown to something more than that found between master and servant, yet it still fell short of actual friendship. Likewise, he was more than an assistant. He liked to think of Neji as his right-hand man. Someone beneath him in station, but whom he felt comfortable sharing business confidences with on occasion. The barrier between employer and employee wasn't set aside quite enough for them to share tea or laugh together, but after Sasuke, Itachi liked to think the closest person to him was Neji.

Despite the inexplicable tension that passed between them on occasion, he felt comfortable enough now to speak plainly. "I've been sick with worry. About Sasuke being unprotected," he said to Neji's frown of confusion. "Sasuke himself has told me how he was able to best Naruto on numerous occasions. Madara's right, he can strike at Sasuke and neither Naruto nor my brother will ever see it coming, even if I warned them. Sasuke's…somewhat innocent, even if he can defend himself. I have no choice but to give in to Madara's demands. At which point he'll probably have me and Sasuke killed anyway. Not that I'd be taken easily." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed. He'd argued with himself over this the entire night.

Neji walked into the room and closed the door. He could tell his employer was in dire need of comfort. He thought carefully of what he could say to him. Some of the truth, but by no means all. "Sir, forgive me, but you don't know Naruto the way I do. He's never seriously tried to fight Sasuke. He doesn't know any skilled combat, true, but he won't be easy to get past. Not if he's warned that Sasuke is in danger. Real danger. He'll crack this world in two trying to protect him. If anyone ever made it through Naruto and got to Sasuke it would only be as they were stepping over Naruto's dead body. Still, you're right, Sasuke's in danger. That's why I've sent a telegram to Naruto."

Itachi felt the tightness in his chest, a feeling he'd carried since hearing Madara's threat, loosen. He let out a breath that dropped his chin on his chest as relief flooded him. Neji never lied. If he thought Naruto could protect Sasuke then Sasuke was safe. "You truly believe my brother will be all right?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes." Neji took a step closer to Itachi, lifted a hand to touch his forearm, then lowered it instead. The man's worry pulled at him. "If Naruto is forewarned, Sasuke can have no greater protection." Which wasn't completely true, but he needed his master to be clear-headed. He debated telling Itachi more, of who else he'd sent a telegram to, but decided that now was not the time.

Itachi looked up and found Neji standing very close. It occurred to him that his assistant was a very complex man, indeed. "You've had no sleep this night either, have you? I don't know what I'd do without you, Neji. You should have a care with your own life. Madara has threatened you too."

"And you," Neji reminded him. "Trust me, if Madara thought he could handle me, I'd be dead already. He's obviously been having us all watched. He could have had me killed on any number of trips you sent me on. No, he knows that to get too close to me would have alerted me and been bad for him. He probably knows I'd spot an ambush as well. And he knows he can't get to you so long as I'm around, or he would have simply kidnapped you; if he wasn't afraid to have your father kidnapped from a jail cell, surrounded by policemen, he wouldn't bat an eye at taking an unarmed man from the secrecy of his house. He knows Hinata is here too, or he would have used her to threaten me further. The fact that he didn't, and that he didn't mention her, means she's an unknown to him." _Or it meant he suspects something about her_. "Sir, trust me, you're safe with me. From attempts on your life, at any rate. As for the rest…" Neji shrugged, staring at Itachi intently.

The sun was starting to come up. Itachi's mind spun with all Neji had said. "Yes. As to that, you will need to verify his statements, see if he's given documents to the authorities, as he's claimed. Would it be possible to discover how far into the family his influence reaches? I want to know who his men are."

"That will be easy, but I don't think I should leave your side, sir."

"Are you to be my bodyguard as well as my assistant and servant, then?" Itachi tiredly rubbed the back of his neck. "I can handle myself."

Neji refrained from saying anything to the contrary. He could tell that Itachi still believed himself relatively safe in his own home. He probably thought that Madara, having drunk tea and behaved like a gentlemen, wouldn't stoop to base brutality. Neji, however, knew better. He could see very well that Madara was a common thug in a suit, nothing more. Thinking of how he could possibly protect Itachi without offending him or disobeying his orders, he bowed shortly. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

* * *

><p>Itachi scrubbed his face, brushed his own hair, and donned fresh clothing. He made it downstairs to find Madara sitting in his place at the head of the dining table, and placing food on a small plate for his mother, who took it with a murmur of thanks. Itachi sat at the other end of the dining table, far enough away from Madara so that the man would be unable to tamper with his food or strike at him without him seeing. He made sure to fill his plate only with food he saw Madara himself eating.<p>

They ate in silence, trading glances from time to time. The air was strained and tense with leashed violence.

To Itachi's left sat an entire wall of windows that looked out on the snow-covered grounds of Uchiha Manor. He pretended to be engrossed in this picturesque scene as he ate. He refused to break the silence, or behave as if he were in anyway uncomfortable in his own home.

-oOo-

Itachi nearly choked at seeing Hinata glide into the dining room and calmly take up a position between himself and Madara, on the opposite side of the table from where his mother sat. _"Ohayo," _she greeted in a low, pleasant voice.

She was answered in Japanese by Madara and Itachi, and stared at openly by Mikoto. His mother's reaction was interesting. Itachi resumed eating after pouring tea for Hinata. So Madara hadn't told his wife there was another woman in the house? Very interesting indeed. Also interesting was the way Madara stared, while trying to appear as if he wasn't, at Hinata. He took in everything, Itachi saw, from her silk kimono, to her elaborately styled hair. In fact, he stared particularly hard at the many hair ornaments placed artfully in the thick black mass, as if he'd never seen them before. Itachi didn't know what there was to interest Madara about a few hand-crafted sticks placed in a woman's hair, but anything of interest to Madara must, of necessity, be of interest to him. He would look into it.

Madara glanced up now and then, looking at him or Hinata. "Your skulking servant is absent today." He forked a last bite of egg into his mouth.

Itachi refrained from commenting.

"Have you reached a decision?" Madara asked when he'd wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin. He sat back now to fix Itachi with his undivided attention.

"I told you my decision last night."

Madara picked up Mikoto's hand, which was resting on the table near her plate, and held it near his cheek. "And you're certain that is your final word? I would think you'd hate to lose more family members." He kissed Mikoto's fingers lingeringly, his eyes never leaving Itachi's face.

Itachi concentrated on keeping his expression neutral. It was as he'd suspected: his mother hadn't been killed when she'd signed over majority shares to Madara so that she might be present to threaten Itachi with. "You won't get away with this."

"I beg to differ. But since you've refused…"

Madara smiled thinly. He twisted his hand suddenly, sharply, and broke most of Mikoto's fingers. The crunch and snap of her slender bones had Itachi roaring to his feet, even as his mother screamed and collapsed from her chair. Itachi rushed to her side. Seeing his bowed head, Madara moved toward him, reaching into his breast pocket.

Hinata made a small movement.

Itachi, suddenly sensing the threat of Madara, looked up at the same time that Madara himself looked at Hinata. Itachi thought that perhaps he was hesitant to commit any questionable actions in front of a witness. Whatever the case, he saw the thin blade Madara had begun to extract returned to the inner pocket of his suit. Only then did Itachi look to see what Hinata had done.

She'd opened her fan, no more. It fluttered in tiny movements before her face. She wasn't even looking in their direction, but off through the wide windows of the dining room, at the white landscape of the Uchiha grounds. Her voice was soft and distant when she spoke.

_"White, pure, clean, is snow._

_Red, swift, sudden is violence._

_Spots on the snow. Death." _

Mikoto was weeping quietly, softly. In the relative silence that followed, Itachi saw Madara's body stiffen, as if Hinata's impromptu _haiku _had offended him. He spun and exited the dining room. Itachi was left to wonder just what it was that had happened.

-oOo-

"I must go," Mikoto stood suddenly, cradling her hand. Her legs seemed unable to support her. She leaned heavily on Itachi. "I must go to him. He will be angry if I linger here, I must-"

Itachi hushed her with a finger to her lips. "Mother, stop. You're speaking madness. You cannot think to go to him, look at your hand! What has you so terrified of him? I'm here, I won't let him harm you, and I will make sure he's gone as soon as I see to the validity of his words."

She pulled away from him. "I must go to him," she said again. She walked away unsteadily, refusing his help. He heard her making her way up the stairs, and swore in quiet frustration and fear. What hold did Madara have over his mother?

Itachi turned to regard Hinata, who was calmly sipping from her tea now. Neji was right. His cousin was an unknown to Madara, but that did not explain why he'd hesitated to commit more violence in front of her. After all, he'd already hurt his mother in front of her, hadn't he? And just why had Hinata opted to breakfast with them for the first time in months? He asked her this question directly.

_"I'd heard there were guests," _she answered in her melodious Japanese. _"I did not wish to appear rude. Rudeness from a guest…the Hyuuga would lose face for such conduct. Excuse me, please."_

Itachi was again left with his thoughts. It seemed to him that Hinata had not cared whether or not she appeared rude to him and Sasuke, so why did she care now?

* * *

><p>He sent his butler to fetch the doctor for his mother, but the man never came back. When he went down to the kitchens to see if anyone had heard the butler return, he found him dining with the rest of the staff. Itachi questioned him sharply on his refusal to bring back the doctor or inform him that he'd returned.<p>

"Begging your pardon sir, but we answer to master Madara now. He said no doctor was to be brought, that he'd tend to the mistress's hand himself."

Itachi was livid, but walked from the kitchen without a word. The humiliation was not to be borne! He'd already tried to see his mother but she and Madara were both closeted in her room.

It was inconceivable that such an untenable situation had cropped up so quickly. His life was neatly turned on its head, and there was nothing he could immediately do about it. His hands were tied until he knew the extent of Madara's interference and until he knew for sure that Naruto had gotten Neji's message. He spent the remainder of the morning and the better part of the afternoon in his den, gathering his copies of business contracts.

One thing he made sure to do, and that was to go to his safe and retrieve his pistol. He loaded it and kept it on his person.

-oOo-

Neji returned as evening was approaching. "The news isn't good," he began when he and Itachi were in Itachi's room. "The few people who appeared loyal to you are no longer around. Most have been stripped of their wealth and sent back to Japan. Some have been killed. All remaining Uchiha active in the family appear to be Madara's men. And the documents he's filed with your lawyer and such are legitimate. He is ruler of the Uchiha family, legally. All that stops him from having complete possession of the wealth and businesses is your share, which was twenty-five percent. Your father's share, which Madara now has, was fifty. He had your father state in his will that Sasuke's share, which is equal to yours, remain in Madara's possession until he inherits. Sasuke doesn't inherit until he's twenty-five, which is three years away. Right now, Madara has seventy-five percent of the Uchiha holdings."

"How did he get control of Sasuke's share?" Itachi asked furiously. "Last I knew it was in my safekeeping."

"He murdered, and threatened to murder, certain officials. There are quite a few in his pocket now."

"I don't understand. Why did he not murder his way into control of my share as well?"

"Most likely because you're an active arbiter of your affairs, sir. You would have noticed something right away, while Sasuke is not in control of his share yet."

Itachi dropped into his chair, suddenly exhausted. The coup against his father had been for nothing, then. He did not have control of the family, as he'd thought. "And you're certain that there are Uchiha loyal to me and Sasuke still?"

"In Japan, yes. I was able to find out that Madara has been in Hawaii for many years, coordinating this coup. Makes sense; a lot of _yakuza _activity takes place there."

"They have no power? If I brought them back…"

"I said they've been sent back, but their loved ones and children are in Madara's possession. He has them working as slave labor on Hawaii. Sir, there's more." Neji leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I've heard rumors that he is here now because he is looking for something."

Itachi responded in kind. "Are you certain? Have you any idea what this thing could be?"

"No. But it is very important, enough so that Madara is killing people in order to get to it."

"Might not the thing have been my father? In which case, he already got what he wanted."

"I don't think so, sir. Apparently, your father was kept alive so long because he refused to tell Madara where this thing is."

Itachi was impressed. "Neji, how on earth did you find out so much in just one day?"

"I have contacts," Neji said absently. "Sir…what are you going to do? I'll stand behind whatever you decide. We could go to Panama and join with Sasuke, if you wish, or-"

"No." It was snowing again, Itachi saw. He studied the lazy spiraling of the fat flakes as he considered his situation.

Madara had complete control of the family and anyone loyal to Itachi. His mother was only kept alive as a way to sway his mind. Consequently, he could expect her to be hurt and injured on a regular basis. Madara had some hold over her that kept his resilient and notoriously calculated mother petrified. And at anytime Madara thought he could manage it, Itachi could be assured of a swift and merciless death. All that stood between him and this end, it seemed, was a servant and his own will to live.

"I'm surrounded by danger on every side," he murmured to the frosted window pane.

"Sir?"

Itachi met Neji's concerned gaze. "I'm not going to Panama."

"Then what will you do?"

"I'm going to discover how it was my father kept the family out of Madara's clutches for so many years. He did so, and did it successfully, or Madara would have made an appearance long before now. My father was likely so hard on me and Sasuke because he knew Madara was out there. He tried to toughen us, to prepare us…" Itachi trailed off as he realized, finally, the meaning behind all the training, all the pain, all the demands to be ruthless. He turned back to Neji. "My father only warned me of Madara once. He showed me a daguerreotype of him. He said he would tell me more when I was older, but that time never came, I guess. No wonder my father was so corrupt. It was the only way to keep the family from Madara's clutches. I can't say he was much better than Madara, at that.

"But he was successful. I must learn how, Neji. I have a sneaking suspicion that the answer lies in whatever Madara is seeking. We will try to discover what that is before he does. Regardless, I'm not giving up this family to that madman. I will _not _be run out of my own home."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: An ungodly delay, yes I know. I had other works that needed to be completed, health issues, etc. Even now, there are a ton of things I have to be writing besides this, but Take Me can be delayed no more.

That said, I would like to explain something about Madara here. In canon he is a vastly superior entity, with powers and experience far outstripping anyone else in the Narutoverse. Here, his power is that of anyone in our world: money, men, land, and influence. He has more of these than anyone else in this AR I've created, but other than that he is as ordinary as Sasuke, Itachi, Naruto, and Neji. Evil, to be sure, but no one with supernatural capabilities.

Lastly, I will try to update this every Saturday, as I did with Save Me. I make no promises, though, as I am also in the middle of writing other works and my novel. And no, I don't know how many chapters this will be. I'm notoriously incapable of predicting fic length.

Thank you all for your wonderful patience.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

The snow continued to fall as dusk finally came, followed by full dark. Neji remained where he was, sitting in front of Itachi's desk, as Itachi appeared to be lost in thought. He saw Itachi fingering the ring of keys he kept attached to his waistcoat, opposite the pocket he kept his watch in. After a moment, the ring of keys was plucked free of their customary place and held up to the lamplight.

Itachi studied the many keys, idly turning them in his hand. "You said the documents Madara filed with my lawyer are legitimate," he said to Neji at length. "Is my lawyer still my man?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. And interestingly enough, he is loyal to you because he was loyal to your father. I thought you'd done away with all servants and retainers loyal to him?"

Itachi hadn't known that his lawyer was still his father's man. "So did I. When I apprised him of the fact that he'd be serving me instead of my father he assured me that he would do all in his power to prove that he was dedicated to me and me only. He was too good, and too familiar with our family's affairs, for me to consider finding another." He continued to turn the keys in his hand, examining them one by one.

Neji looked at the keys too, wondering at Itachi's sudden fascination with them. "Was there a reason you asked about the lawyer, sir?"

"Hm? Ah, yes. I just wondered, since the documents appeared legitimate. That would mean my lawyer was aware of Madara's activities, and the fact that Sasuke's inheritance had been usurped from my control. It occurs to me that he might have informed me, but he hasn't. That suggests that he was threatened by Madara to keep his silence." He paused at Neji's confirming nod. "And yet he lives. He has not been killed and replaced, as others loyal to me or my father have been. Why do you suppose that is?"

Neji blinked, shook his head.

Itachi now rested his elbows on the desk, and his chin on the back of one hand. He held the ring of keys up in the other, still focused on them. "For the same reason he hasn't murdered my mother, Sasuke, or me yet; there's something he wants from us. He wants me to sign those papers, and he wants Sasuke and my mother around to influence my decision. I don't believe he failed to murder his way into possession of my share simply because I'm an active arbiter of my affairs as you said, Neji. No. There is some other reason, and it would seem my lawyer is a part of that reason."

"My lord would know best," Neji said respectfully.

"I don't know about that, but I do know that my father did not keep all _his_ affairs documented. There were things known only to him, held strictly in his mind. It is likely that whatever thing Madara wants, he hoped to get upon receiving possession of my father's control of the family…but Father always kept the most important things undocumented, as I said. Madara must think I have knowledge or possession of this thing, or that it is in my share of the holdings somewhere. Do you suppose he's really dead?" he asked abruptly.

"Your father? Yes." Neji's voice was subdued. "His body is even now with the coroner, having been delivered last night. I expect he'll contact you in the morning to identify it and discuss a funeral."

Itachi said nothing to that. The hand he'd had his chin on was now covering the lower part of his face. His brows were knit in thought as he studied the keys, apparently fascinated by them. "When Sasuke ran away, Father went mad with fury," he mused. "He went on and on about the shame and dishonor done to us, but one must wonder. I do believe now that he must always have been in some kind of private battle with Madara for control of the family. A son who would not obey, or who was not in his control, was a son Madara could then seize and exploit. I could well imagine that Father would rather see us dead than hand Madara such an advantage over him. He was a stern man. A wonder Sasuke escaped Japan without kidnapping, but of course Madara was still occupied with trying to extract control of the family from Father at that time."

Neji felt some measure of wonder himself as he watched Itachi. The man had a very sharp mind and a distinct flair for intrigue, if he could put all this together in only the time he'd been sitting here at this desk. Perhaps Madara wouldn't get the best of him after all. "What will you do now, sir?"

"Right." Itachi finally pulled his eyes away from the keys. His expression and tone grew sharper, more alert, as he addressed the immediate issue facing them. "Our plight is dire, Neji, but not without hope. To my understanding, our most pressing order of business is leverage. Madara has it, we don't. You have already sent a telegram to Naruto, correct?"

Neji nodded, leaning forward as if pulled by Itachi's suddenly commanding air.

"Good. That's Sasuke seen to, but there is still my mother. We must get her away from Madara, and make it so that she has no wish, or is unable, to return to him. She must be persuaded to my side, yet I can see no way to accomplish this. Forcing her, even physically, would not work. She'd only find her way back to him. If my mother was gotten from him, and Madara himself possibly removed from this house, I do believe we could buy ourselves some time."

"For what, sir?" Neji was rapt.

"To discover what this thing that Madara wants is. To perhaps locate it and ensure it doesn't fall into his hands. Once I have it, I could then use it to keep Madara at bay, as Father did."

Neji looked aside, frowning. "A sound plan…but there's no guarantee we will find this thing."

"No, there isn't."

"Sir, forgive me, but Madara will not stop. Wouldn't it be safer for him to suffer an accident?"

Itachi met those pale eyes forthrightly. "I am neither my father nor Madara, Neji. Murder is not the way I do things."

"No, sir. Of course not. Forgive me." Neji lowered his eyes a moment, aware that he'd crossed a line as far as Itachi was concerned.

"That suggestion will never be put to me again." Itachi was firm.

"No, sir, it won't. I do have another suggestion though."

"About Madara?"

"About your mother. I believe I can get her to choose your side of things."

Itachi's gaze sharpened. "How?"

"Well, not me. My cousin. She's a woman. I think your mother would listen to her."

An interesting concept. And his mother was fluent in Japanese. "On the matter of your cousin, I was most surprised to see her at breakfast this morning." His eyes bored into Neji, who's face was suddenly blank. "Do you know anything about that? Or why Madara would find her offensive?"

"No. I mean…I told her there were guests…"

"I see. Well, your suggestion isn't without merit, but you don't know my mother. She may be cowed by Madara, but she is not easily swayed to anything, and your cousin seems to be a very gentle sort. I doubt she'd have any influence whatsoever over my mother."

"Can she at least try?"

"She may," Itachi inclined his head. "But I'm not hopeful of success."

The permission was all he needed. Neji stood up. "By your leave, I'll just go tell her then bring your dinner."

Itachi dipped his head in dismissal.

-oOo-

Once outside Itachi's suite of rooms, Neji paused to make sure the hall was deserted. He saw a flash of white disappearing around the corner to his left.

So the servants were eavesdropping. That wasn't unexpected, seeing as they were all in Madara's pocket now. As Itachi's right hand man, Neji more or less handled all household affairs. He would see about replacing the staff immediately. For now, he hastened to the first floor guest rooms, where his cousin lived, and knocked once on her door before slipping inside.

* * *

><p>She was perched in the wing chair near the sitting room's fireplace, feet tucked beneath her, and a book open on her lap. As always, he conversed with her in Japanese. <em>"What happened this morning?"<em>

"_An attempt, no more. Possibly not even a serious one."_ She didn't look up from her book.

"_You stopped it?"_

"_I made known that his actions were ill-advised, yes. You were right to send me."_

"_Does he suspect you?"_

"_Madara? Possibly. Hard to say. That my position here is more than guest or relative, certainly. Who I really am…hard to say. His eyes hide much."_

"_Your interests never crossed his at home?"_

"_But of course."_

He said no more on that. If Madara had ever prevailed against her, his cousin wouldn't now be sitting here. During the past year he'd learned much about her, the reason for her exile, and why she had consented to it. His Japanese had likewise improved tremendously, so that they were able to have nightly conversations about a variety of things.

_"Did you ever have contacts in Hawaii or here in America?" _he asked now_.  
><em>

Hinata finally closed her book and looked at the fire. _"Hawaii, yes. Here…few."_

"_Contact them. All of them. I need reinforcements here, and people in place in Hawaii to stage a possible coup. Itachi may not believe in murder, but you and I know better, neh?"_

"_Not believe in murder?" _Hinata lifted puzzled eyes to his, head tilted. _"What world does he suppose this is?"_

"_An orderly one. A fair one. Not the world his father knew it to be, or that you and I live in. Sometimes I miss Naruto. He would have spotted the truth of Madara at a glance, and taken his throat the moment he threatened Sasuke. You gotta love a man like that." _He laughed. Naruto was a crude bastard, as he himself had come to be over the years. It was only here, working under the steady influence of Itachi and the well-bred atmosphere of those he associated with, that he'd come to develop a layer of polish, class, and sophistication.

"_I sense you came here for a specific reason," _Hinata said. _"One other than to request I contact people in Hawaii."_

Neji stood up now, and his tone grew serious. _"Uchiha Mikoto. See to her and to the running of this house until I can replace it with suitable staff."_

Their eyes held a moment, as further communication passed between them. Then Hinata dropped her eyes to her lap as she reopened her book. _"It shall be done."_

-oOo-_  
><em>

Breathing easier now that a plan to safeguard Itachi on all immediate fronts was coming together, Neji went to the back of the house where the kitchens were located. He made sure that the butler and housekeeper were present along with the rest of the staff, and addressed his comments to them. The butler was typically in charge of the male servants, while the housekeeper ran the female ones. Neji intended to overrule them both.

"You've shamed yourselves and your posts by abandoning your master the way you have," he began.

"What would you have had us do?" the butler answered back. "Lord Madara waltzed in here and calmly informed us that he had our families. It's true, he does."

"Lord, my ass. And what would I have had you do? I would have had you tell your employer, as any rightful _man_ would have," Neji snapped. "As it is, I can't possibly have any of you anywhere near the master. You're fired, all of you."

Stricken silence. Then one of the bolder servants recalled something. "You don't own us no more, begging your pardon. The lord Madara does now, and-"

Neji took a measured step closer to where they were all clustered. "Yes. That's true. And he does have your families, as also noted, but right now _I'm_ the one standing in front of you, and I will not hesitate to see that blood flies if it means keeping my master safe. There have already been deaths, and I know some of you are aware of my origins. Enough, at any rate, to know that I won't hesitate to use this right here, right now."

Every eye in the kitchen went to the thin blade that seemed to materialize in Neji's hand.

"Should any of you be getting the notion to gang up on me, I can promise you it is not a good idea," Neji added.

They weighed him, judging his threat level. It _was_ known that Neji was proficient at self-defense though, and most of them, if not all, were simple folk who'd never encountered serious violence. A care for their immediate safety outweighed the comparatively distant threat of a family member possibly being hurt. Most of them dropped their eyes in submission.

"But what of our families?" The housekeeper cried. "You can't mean to turn us out without a thought to them?" She, apparently, was the only one thinking less of herself and more of her loved ones.

"You mean the way you sided with Madara without a thought of loyalty to the master?" Neji said harshly. He had no sympathy, not with Itachi's safety on the line. "You're all to be gone from here within the hour. _Without_ pay," he added. "I'll be damned if I see the master's hard-earned money go to a bunch of traitorous scum too afraid to do what's right."

He watched as they hung their heads and filed out one by one, utterly dejected, and followed them as far as the gates to Uchiha Manor. He locked the wrought iron behind them.

* * *

><p>Back in the manor, he considered the covered dishes set out on a cart that one of the maids had been about to take to Madara. No doubt the man expected to be served, along with Mikoto, in the large dining room in precisely one hour. There were no footmen and butler now to carry the cart up to the second floor, where he intended to serve the food to Itachi. He transferred as many of the dishes as he could to the kitchen's largest tray instead, and carried this upstairs.<p>

Itachi was shrugging out of his suit jacket and slipping into a dinner one when Neji was given permission to enter after his discreet knock. He came to the table, dressed formally for dinner as he always was, and waited while Neji served him. "You can remain here while I eat, Neji," he said when he took up his knife and fork. "Speak to me of my business affairs as they stand. I know this already, but it helps to hear things from an abstract perspective; I've been trying without success to figure out what it is I have or own that Madara could want. It could still be something only my father knew, but I want to be sure."

"Of course, sir." Neji straightened and stood a few feet to Itachi's right as he began the long process of listing, in detail, all the things Itachi ran or had control of, and his own dealings with them.

-oOo-

The man had a pleasant voice, Itachi mused as he ate. Neji's language had smoothed out considerably during the year he'd been working for him. He found himself becoming increasingly focused on the deep timbre of that voice instead of on the words themselves, and that bothered him.

There was much about his faithful servant that bothered him, if he was honest with himself. He just couldn't put a name to any one thing. There was simply this …current, for lack of a better word. A current of something, some awareness or sense of the other, that left Itachi uncomfortable. Where before he'd been perfectly at ease in Neji's presence, now it was sometimes difficult to meet his eyes, and he often found himself, like now, focused on odd traits the man had. The smell of his hair whenever Neji bent over him to shave him. The hair's thickness, its length. Neji's eyes. The line of his jaw-

No.

As he did each time these thoughts cropped up, Itachi firmly counseled himself to think of something else. It was improper to think of one's servant in any way other than a strictly professional one.

"What was that?" he said, coming out of his thoughts.

"I said I dismissed the staff, sir. They couldn't be trusted. I have some people in mind for replacements, and will have it all settled by the end of the week, if not sooner. Until then, my cousin will see to the house and cooking."

"I see. Well, I leave that to your capable supervision."

"Are you finished, sir?"

Itachi realized that he'd been sitting for some time now before his empty plate. "Yes, thank you. No brandy tonight, I feel the need to turn in early."

"I'll return immediately then, and prepare you for bed." Neji cleared away the dishes and left the room.

* * *

><p>Itachi went to his bedroom. He waited by his bed for Neji to come back, the same as every evening, and just as it did every night now, his body hummed through a low-grade fever of anticipation. No matter what went on during the day, or what other pressing matters occupied his mind during daylight hours, always, <em>always<em>, in the back of his mind was the knowledge that come the night, Neji would prepare him for bed, and …_it_ would happen. That _thing_, that indefinable something that seemed to pass between them with increasing frequency of late would reach such a pitch during the few moments he was readied for bed that neither of them could ignore it, the way they did in the day.

Just what it was Itachi couldn't say, but he fairly shook as Neji quietly entered his bedroom now and came over to him. Tonight it was even worse than usual. Itachi blamed the stress of Madara's arrival and lack of sleep.

"Sir?" Neji's eyes searched his own. "Are you all right?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Itachi knew his breathing was heavier than it should have been for someone supposedly about to retire.

"It's only…" Neji removed the handkerchief he kept in his own jacket pocket and touched it to the skin above Itachi's mouth, and to his brow without permission. "You're sweating. Do you have a fever? Are you ill?"

"No, I…no." He should move his head away from that solicitous hand, Itachi thought, or at the very least upbraid Neji for the impropriety of his actions. He stepped back, and Neji's hand fell away. "I'm quite well. Thank you. You may begin."

Their eyes held a moment. Itachi was alarmed to feel his heart thudding at the shared look, and utterly confused as to why he was becoming so agitated. It was almost as if he feared Neji, but that was ludicrous. He dropped his eyes.

Neji was quick and methodical. He removed the dinner jacket, folded it, and set it aside. The armbands Itachi used to hold his sleeves up were next, followed by his gold pocket watch, the ring of keys he'd studied so intently earlier, and his waistcoat. All these were set to one side, where Neji would gather them once he was done, and tend to their cleaning. He moved now to unbutton Itachi's shirt and trousers, and this was where his hands faintly shook. Itachi could see it, and he knew, as he always did, that Neji was as indecently aware of him as he himself was of Neji.

Standing in his small clothes, Itachi held his arms out as his flannel nightclothes were tugged onto him.

-oOo-

For his part, Neji dreaded this nightly ritual. Once, back when he'd still been new to Itachi's service, he'd looked forward to them. His attraction to Itachi had no outlet except this, to undress him at night. Itachi had been blissfully unaware of anything amiss, and Neji had been able to nurse his growing attraction in secret.

He didn't know if he'd done something, or said something, but for whatever reason, Itachi began noticing him as well. He could very well see the bewilderment in his employer, the confusion, the bafflement that did nothing but make Neji want him more. If he understood his employer correctly, the man had never been attracted to anyone, not even to his wife. Itachi had never _wanted_ anyone, and so didn't understand the pangs of physical attraction. Most certainly, he did not lean toward men.

But he definitely noticed Neji. Oh yes. Neji positively _roasted _whenever those black eyes lingered on his face, and he was equal parts overjoyed at his attraction being returned at all, in any way, and fearful of what would happen once Itachi realized his own interest. The moments when their eyes would meet during this nightly ritual were the worst. The very worst. It was all Neji could do to keep himself from hooking a hand behind Itachi's neck and dragging him in for a long, deep kiss. He never failed to remain as hard as a rock throughout the entire process, another reason he tried to complete the evening preparations as quickly as possible now.

Itachi was far from stupid. It was only a matter of time before he put two and two together and reached the conclusion that something other than professionalism was passing between them. And when he did, Neji was almost certain that he would be dismissed. And just now, when Itachi needed his protection so badly, Neji could not afford to be dismissed. Yet neither could he stop himself from feeling the way he did. He wanted Itachi with an intensity that left him helpless to do anything but continue to serve him to the best of his abilities. To serve until Itachi grew aware of how things were between them, and then sent him packing.

Yes, he dreaded the evenings. It was at night that the barriers separating employer and employee seemed to thin to nonexistence, and they were simply men. Two men very aware of each other. One hopelessly in love, the other ignorant. But not ignorant for long. Neji could almost feel the revelation coming closer with each passing day.

He finished Itachi's toilet with an inward sigh of relief and stepped back. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

Itachi shook his head, feeling somehow weak and unsteady in the aftermath of Neji tending to him. "No. Wake me early, though. Tomorrow will be a trying day and I want to be ahead of it."

Neji bowed and left.

* * *

><p>Once his door had shut, Itachi took up the ring of keys Neji had set on his nightstand and lay down on his bed. He drew the bed curtains shut.<p>

Sewn into the waistband of his pajama bottoms was a small loop specifically for the ring of keys he held in his hand. A similar loop was present in all his clothing, formal and informal. Holding the keys now, Itachi studied it, as he'd studied it earlier today.

-oOo-

_The city jail was a dank and dirty place, redolent of spilled booze and urine. Itachi was led back by an officer to the cell his father occupied, and left alone with him._

"_Come to gloat?" Uchiha Fugaku sneered._

_Itachi looked him over, searching for a sign of defeat. There was none. His father's evening attire was disheveled, and his hair somewhat unkempt, but he sat erect on the bed in his cell, features composed. "No. I came to tell you that I am head of the family now. Despite your corruption, you're still my father and you groomed me for leadership. I wanted to tell you that I will not fail the family. And I will find Sasuke."_

_He'd turned to go then, dismissing his father from his mind, but he'd been commanded to stop. Even jailed and beaten, Fugaku's voice still had the power to make him obey, Itachi thought in shame. He'd turned to look at the face so like his own. _

"_There is much you don't know, son. If you would really succeed me…" he'd faltered, looked away. Then he'd gotten up and walked to the bars separating them. He'd held the bars in his hands and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Come to me tomorrow. Request an audience with me from the new sheriff, and I will tell you everything. This is of vital importance, Itachi. You _must_ come to me so that I can pass on all you need to know. Until then, my keys. The keys I kept on my person at all times. You must keep them with you as I did. Do not set them down even for a _moment_. They must _never_ be out of your sight, is that clear?"_

_So frightful had his father's face been in that moment, that Itachi had nodded automatically. "It is."_

"_Come to me tomorrow." And Fugaku had seemed to deflate, showing defeat at last. He'd turned away and shuffled to his cot._

_The officer who'd led him in came to lead him out again. Before he'd left the jail entirely, the sheriff had handed Itachi his father's personal effects, the things that had been on him at the time of his arrest. There was a gold pocket watch, a silver box of snuff, some cash, and the ring of keys. Itachi had thanked the sheriff and gone._

_That night he'd been woken from slumber in the dead of night by the hammering on his door by his valet. The man said the police were at the gates. When Itachi had finally made his way downstairs, it was to be told that his father had been kidnapped from the very jail. _

-oOo-

Itachi carefully hooked the ring of keys to his pants now and lay back against his pillows. He stared at the underside of the red brocaded canopy over his bed. What had his father wanted to tell him? At the time Itachi had thought it was only business, perhaps ventures currently underway, or a disclosure of the people who owed Fugaku money. Something of that nature. Now he wasn't so sure. Ever since Madara's arrival, and learning how he'd tortured his father, Itachi was becoming increasingly certain that what his father had wanted to tell him had to do with whatever Madara was searching for. He found himself fondling the keys, wondering if they didn't perhaps have some bearing on the matter as well, remembering the urgency with which his father had bid him to keep the keys within sight.

"Tomorrow I will find out what each key opens," he murmured to himself. With that decision in place, he turned on his side and went to sleep.

* * *

><p>Just as he had been that night he'd gone to see his father in jail, Itachi was woken suddenly from the deepest part of his slumber some time later. This time it wasn't hammering on his door. In fact, there was no sound at all when he opened his eyes, and he couldn't at first tell what had woken him. Then a feeling came over him and he turned around quickly, and there was Madara, eyes wide and mad in his white face, lunging across the bed and reaching for him.<p>

There was a scuffle. Itachi landed a blow to the older man's face that had Madara stunned, and his nose bleeding, but Madara's hands were hooked into Itachi's night shirt, and he refused to let go. "Where," Madara panted. "_Where_-"

Then Neji was there, appearing as if conjured, and Madara was suddenly gone. When Itachi was able to get his bearings and scramble from the bed, he saw two shapes grappling with each other in the dark by the light of the fireplace, on the other side of the room. He hastened to turn on the lamp.

He was in time to see Madara wrench himself free of Neji and flee. Neji ran to the door and peered out, before he came back and stood over Itachi. "I beg you, let me kill him," Neji panted. "Your safety-"

Dazed and disoriented, Itachi managed to find his voice as he wet his lips. "No. I will not condone murder, or any other violence against him just now. He still has my mother. We will deal with him, but only after I have learned the full extent of his presence in the family and my mother is freed of him."

"But sir! He murdered your father, and-"

"_No_. My word is final. I…Neji, your arrival was most timely. I thank you," Itachi said awkwardly. He was beginning to shake now, as his fury arrived late. "Thank you."

Neji lifted a hand to cup his cheek and Itachi recoiled in shock.

"You're hurt," Neji said. He dropped his hand.

Itachi touched his cheek. His fingers came away bloody. "A scratch, nothing more." His heart had been settling from Madara's attack, but now it was pounding again at the look of concern in those pale eyes.

There was a moment of embarrassed silence as Itachi held a kerchief to his cheek and Neji watched him. Then Neji said, "I think I should remain with you until the issue of Madara is resolved."

"I beg your pardon?" Why did that suggestion have his skin tightening?

"In the sitting room, not here in your bedroom," Neji hastened to explain. "Your safety is paramount. I have some skill in self-defense, as you know."

So he did. Itachi had forgotten that. And Madara had made mention of having men trained in Japan, in the old ways. It must be assumed that Madara also had such training. As did Neji. It was a wise move. "Yes. All right. In the sitting room."

Neji bowed shortly. Itachi watched him go into the sitting room and leave the door connecting it to his bedroom cracked. "So I can hear if you need me," he said when he caught Itachi watching.

When Itachi climbed back into his bed, he felt completely drained of all energy. Sleep did not return that night.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm not quite sure how I manage to get myself into these things. Somehow a relatively simple fic always turns into a great undertaking, with layers and shit. Right now the issue I'm facing is how to tell this story in 20 chaps or less, without the subplot of Madara overshadowing the main plot of Neji and Itachi. I've yet to figure that out, since they are both of great importance. In _Save_ _Me_ the whole Itachi thing was safely in the background, where it belonged. This…ugh. Well…I will do my best, as always, but I've never written anything quite like this, so bear with me. Hopefully, that issue will work itself out in the telling, as most of my issues seem to do.

Also, please excuse the fact that I have not made mention of the _Thousand Days War_ when I mentioned Panama in _Save Me_ and here. Just…ignore that major inconsistency.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

Colón, Panama boasted three thousand souls, most of which were asleep this early in the morning. Gaara arrived just as the sun was cresting the horizon, to find that it was mostly the Jamaicans and other islanders moving about. Kakashi's offices had grown, and were also bustling with activity. Kakashi himself wasn't present; he was overseeing the opening of a second branch of his company on the Pacific side of Panama, in Panama City. The men who greeted Gaara when he opened the door were unfamiliar, but seemed to know what they were about. One handed him two slips of paper, and said there were no further messages. Gaara thanked him and left.

The twenty miles between Colón and the farmland Sasuke called home took Gaara a few hours to navigate on horseback, as he was doing. The thin shirt he wore was drenched with sweat in the characteristic humidity Panama was known for year round by the time he swung onto Naruto's 50 hectares. The well-tended land, adorned with teak trees and coconut groves, did nothing to lift his spirits today; he'd been traveling since shortly after midnight and was still unused to the constant heat and muggy atmosphere. He stabled the horse and entered the one-story farmhouse, intent on having a cool glass of water.

The sound of vigorous poking rang through the few rooms. Gaara was used to this. It didn't stop him from heading straight to the little kitchen and slaking his thirst. As he was wiping his mouth on the back of one hand his eyes fell the messages. He idly turned them over in his hand, draining his glass.

-oOo-

An hour later, Naruto entered the kitchen and took the piece of paper Gaara handed him before the tall youth left to see if Sasuke needed anything. It took Naruto all of three minutes to first remember the code he and Neji used to use when apprenticed on Kakashi's ship, and then decode the telegram. Once he did, he read with a growing frown darkening his face.

_Trouble. Yakuza here at Uchiha Manor. Sasuke being used as a threat to coerce Itachi into submission. KEEP HIM SAFE AT ALL COSTS. There are eyes and ears in Kakashi's camp. Keep yourself free, and your head down. I might need help._

_Neji._

"What's that?" Sasuke asked as he walked into the kitchen. He poured himself chilled mint tea as he turned to Naruto.

"Nothing." Naruto shoved the telegram away into one pocket, as Gaara suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Gaara, who gave you the telegram?"

"A man down at the office."

"Someone new?"

"Yes."

Which meant that whoever had handed Gaara the telegram was likely employed by whomever Neji was dealing with and had probably tried to read the message. Neji didn't want him to even alert Kakashi, as evidenced by the admonition to keep his head down. He was supposed to go on as if nothing had happened; he was being watched.

He drummed the fingers of one hand on the table, thinking.

Sasuke sat across from him. "Is something wrong?"

Neji hadn't said _not_ to tell Sasuke, but Naruto knew he'd fly to Itachi's side if he thought his brother was in danger. Sasuke himself was in danger. To keep him safe, Naruto had to keep him in the dark…which did not sit well with him. He'd kept the contents of a telegram from Sasuke once before with disastrous results. After, Sasuke had told him that if Naruto had confided in him, all the subsequent pain they'd gone through as a result could have been avoided. Naruto was tempted to come clean.

But he needed more information. For now…

"I'm not sure," he said carefully. "The message didn't give me any details, but I think a friend might need some assistance. I'm going to tell Kakashi that I might not be able to make that return voyage to Africa this summer."

"Are you sure?" Sasuke frowned. "It's that serious? We're only in February, and June is ages away."

"I'm sure."

"All right. Well…we're still going to visit Itachi at the end of March or the beginning of April, yes?"

Shit. He'd forgotten that he'd promised Sasuke a visit to New York. "Why don't you write your brother and confirm it with him? See what he says." If Itachi was in any danger, or knew of any danger to Sasuke, he'd tell him to stay put. Better if it came from Itachi, not Naruto.

Once Sasuke had gotten up to do just that, and Gaara had silently followed him, Naruto pulled the telegram out. He re-read it, burned it, and set about composing an encoded reply, which he would have Gaara send.

* * *

><p>The morning was a tense one in Uchiha Manor. Neji prepared Itachi as usual by shaving him, brushing his hair, and dressing him. His eyes lingered on the scratch on Itachi's cheek, but neither of them said anything of the previous night.<p>

Down at breakfast, Itachi saw first hand the evidence of Hinata's temporary role as housekeeper: The table was elaborately set with what he recognized as _Ikebana_. The food she'd cooked was most definitely Japanese fare, but he didn't complain. He hardly noticed it, as Neji filled his plate; Madara had just breezed into the room.

Itachi could only attribute his failure to act accordingly last night to the surreal nature of the attack itself, but upon setting eyes on Madara this morning, he was suddenly enraged. He had been attacked in his own home. In his very _bed_. He stood up now and slowly buttoned his jacket as he moved to intercept Madara from approaching the table. Madara looked down at him from his greater height with a bored expression of amusement.

"Your behavior under my roof is both uncouth and unforgivable," Itachi hissed. "Remove yourself from this house at once or I will have you removed."

"I think you'll find the authorities sympathetic to my cause, should you choose to alert them," Madara said mildly. He cast a frosty eye at where Neji had followed Itachi and now stood behind him. "Besides which, if you think to have that Hyuuga attack me again, I will see that your mother suffers for it. As it is, she is…indisposed this morning."

"This is madness!" Itachi said furiously. The idea of his mother being abused because of him cramped his stomach. "You _cannot_ show up here and commit these crimes, regardless to whatever it is you're looking for. I will not stand for it!"

"Then give me what I want. Sign the papers over to me."

"What _is_ it you want?" Itachi asked, stepping closer. He narrowed his eyes as he resisted Neji's restraining hand of caution on his arm, standing as close as possible to Madara. "Tell me that. What is it you want badly enough to murder my father, beat a defenseless woman, and attack me in my bedroom? What could make you forget honor and decency so thoroughly?"

Madara's smug smile vanished completely. The attack _had_ been foolish. Showing such weakness and desperation had caused him to lose face. Not for a moment did he believe Itachi to be ignorant of what he wanted, but if he was willing to stoop to attacking him then he should have made a proper job of it instead of letting himself be run out like some mangy cur. Last night he'd simply been so overcome with the proximity of success…he'd bested Fugaku at last, had his sons more or less at his mercy, and victory was within his grasp. All he needed was for Itachi to accept defeat and give him what was rightfully his. What _belonged_ to him.

"Do not be obtuse," Madara sneered. "You know precisely what I want. I give my word, surrender what your father took from me and I will leave."

Itachi gauged the expression in those flat black eyes. "No you won't."

"If that's how you want to proceed…" Madara stepped around him with a shrug and spent a few moments eying the elaborate set of the table before sitting down, again at the head as if he had a right to this position. "I couldn't help but notice that the staff seems to have mysteriously vanished. Mikoto and I went hungry last night." He unfolded his napkin and spread the linen across his lap. "Unacceptable. As it happens, I have replacements in mind, and these," he said with a pointed glare at Neji, "will not be dismissed unless _I_ dismiss them." He kept his eyes on the Hyuuga as he filled his plate.

_I have to accelerate my plans_, Madara thought. Itachi was proving difficult, and unless he got past the Hyuuga, he couldn't really lay hands on him. Bringing in his men to pose as staff was an inspired solution. Itachi and the Hyuuga would be overpowered, and made to undergo the same persuasion as Fugaku. They'd be undisturbed here in the manor. And if Itachi continued to prove difficult, why then Mikoto would be no great loss. Surely Itachi wouldn't last long if he began cutting off pieces of his mother before his eyes.

Itachi made a show of sitting down to eat at the opposite end of the table. Neji did not see how the man could just tolerate Madara's presence in the house, much less at his table. Were it up to him, Neji would storm the master suite Madara occupied with Mikoto, finish him, and bury his carcass in the apple orchard on the far end of the property. Over and done with. Itachi was too civilized for his own good, to tolerate his father's murderer eating his food.

And he was too naïve to understand that Madara had effectively stated that he'd be bringing reinforcements into the house. He probably thought the man actually meant to hire staff. Neji knew better, though, and kept his eyes locked to Madara's. _I have to act fast. Today. _

"Your cousin is not with us today," Itachi murmured, trying to ignore the tension in the room.

"She's busy," Neji answered. "She asked me to beg your forgiveness." Inside, though, he smirked. Hinata should even now be tending to Mikoto.

* * *

><p>It was hard to remember that she'd shared this room with Fugaku for nearly thirty years. In fact, it was hard to remember anything before the year she'd spent as Madara's captive. Here she lay in the bed she'd become a woman in, had given birth in, and had submitted to Fugaku's attentions in, and all she could remember, all she <em>ever<em> remembered, was the blood, the screams, and the stony obstinacy of Fugaku. He'd been so defiant until the end, until Madara had at last threatened to have Itachi brought and tortured; seeing his wife mutilated and screaming had not had the desired effect on Fugaku.

She shifted her head on the pillow, inhaling the faint, lingering smell of the cologne Fugaku had worn in life. He'd been a good husband. Strict. Commanding. Unyielding. But good, for all that. Good to her, so long as she obeyed him, and she had. He'd kept her in silks and pearls, her table well set. She had given him two exceptional sons, and he had raised them to be as strong and unyielding as he was. He hadn't quite succeeded, but it hadn't been for lack of trying on his part.

She missed him. There had been no finer man, no stronger person in her eyes. The occasional cruelty he'd displayed to his enemies or to his own sons had only served to underline his strength. If she hadn't seen him murdered before her eyes-

Mikoto shied away from that thought quickly. Her breathing always became short, and she felt lightheaded whenever she dwelled on those last days of Fugaku's life. She forced herself to think of her present circumstances.

Madara terrified her. She'd feared Fugaku, yes, as a wife _should_ fear her husband, but Madara truly terrified her. She knew what he was capable of. At any moment he might end her life, or her sons' lives, and she couldn't quite decide which threat took precedence in her mind. She loved her sons, but she also valued herself. If only Itachi would give Madara what he wanted, they might all yet escape this nightmare. She was forbidden to talk with her son, so she couldn't be sure, but if Itachi said he had no knowledge of what Madara sought, then it must be so. He wouldn't willingly see her suffer to save his pride. Not Itachi, her dutiful and upright son.

There was one small thing to be thankful for. Sasuke was nowhere around. Apparently he was living with some sea captain, as strange as that sounded. Her younger son had no especial love for sailing that she could recall, and she would not believe, as Madara had informed her, that he was sinning with the same sea captain. Fugaku had caned that business out of him most severely. Sasuke had ever been her favorite, the son with her face. He'd always been sweeter than Itachi, but wilder. He had her spirit, while Itachi had the more austere mannerisms of his father. If he were here, he would fight Madara head on and probably lose.

And actually, she was thankful that Itachi was the one left here to face Madara too. He'd always been the shrewder son, the one Fugaku had harbored such high hopes for. If anyone could free her from Madara it would be Itachi…if only he were as ruthless as his father had been. He wasn't. Nowhere near. Madara would send him the way of Fugaku if he didn't yield soon, she was sure of it, at which point her own life would cease to matter. There would be no point in keeping her alive, if Itachi wasn't around to see her suffer.

-oOo-

Hinata made her way in a calm and sedate fashion up to the third floor of the manor, which was occupied by the sprawling master suite of rooms that Madara had taken for himself. At placing her hand on the door handle, she found it locked. That was no surprise to her. She removed a key from where she'd tucked it into her _obi_, and quietly entered.

She found herself in a sitting room generously decorated with antiques and gold brocade wallpaper. To her right was a powder room, to her left the bedroom. Tucking her hands into her sleeves, Hinata moved left.

She entered the bedroom without knocking, simply pushing open the door that was already ajar. It made no sound. She found her quarry reclining listlessly in bed, with the bed curtains drawn back and her face turned to the far window. For the moment, Hinata's presence went unnoticed. She took the time to study Mikoto.

She could see that the broken fingers had been left untended. The hand itself was resting palm up on Mikoto's knees. There was an air of utter defeat hanging about the older woman. That was all she could see until some sixth sense suddenly alerted Mikoto to her presence and her head swiftly swung around to see who was there.

Her eyes were large, dark, and expressive. Hinata read them expertly, keeping her own face smooth and blank.

Distrust. Terror. Weakness. Selfishness._ Excellent_. These were all traits she could use, that would put Mikoto under her control in far less time than she'd imagined. Mikoto was already conditioned to fear and obey, and had already been broken by cruelty. It would be a simple matter to redirect her loyalties with kindness. Especially if that kindness came from a source Mikoto had no previous experience with. Hinata was certain that Mikoto had no understanding of the true nature and purpose of women.

She moved forward in an unhurried, unthreatening manner, speaking pleasantly. _"I am Hyuuga Hinata. I'd heard you were ill, Mikoto-san. May I ease your discomfort?"_

There was no answer, not immediately. The distrust grew in those dark eyes, gradually displacing the terror and other emotions as Hinata drew closer to the bed. Finally, Mikoto answered in a halting voice. _"You don't speak English?"_

"_No." _

Mikoto moved to leverage herself up against her pillows. _"You cannot be in here. How did you get in here? Who are you?"_

"_My name-"_

"_Are you my son's lover?" _Mikoto clarified. She sat trembling amidst the quilt and sheets, shivering in the cold room. _"Why are you here?"_

Hinata sat on the edge of the bed, her movements displaying nothing but serenity and peacefulness. She reached for the injured hand and withdrew the other items she'd brought in her _obi_. _"I am who I said I am, and no. Your son and I are not lovers. As to how I entered here, that is unimportant. You are important. You and your health," _she murmured as she gently felt along the swollen digits. She selected a tiny porcelain jar of anti-inflammatory salve and rubbed it onto the fingers. _"You are not being cared for."_

Mikoto seemed focused on her voice, enough so that Hinata was able to deftly set the bones, working by touch and sight, and splint them on the thin, flat pieces of wood she'd brought with her. Mikoto jumped in pain as the bones were straightened and set, but held in her cry. Hinata privately thought that Madara had trained her well not to voice discomfort. She finished by securely wrapping the fingers and then the entire hand in fine linen.

"_Better?"_

Mikoto brought her hand to her face, turning it in wonder. _"Yes, thank you. Are you a physician?"_

Hinata gave a tiny, delicate smile. _"No. But it pays to be well-versed in medicine in my line of work."_

"_What do you do?"_

Instead of answering, Hinata lifted a hand to the fresh bruise purpling the entire left side of Mikoto's face. _"I hope you'll allow me to tend to this as well, Mikoto-san?"_

Mikoto nodded, and gave herself up to the gentle, yet incredibly competent ministrations of the strange young woman. Hinata's fingers were cool and sure against the bruise, and she closed her eyes.

Madara had stormed into the bedroom last night in a fury the likes of which she'd never seen him. He'd struck her without thought, the moment she'd had the poor judgment to ask what was wrong, and then he'd proceeded to use her body roughly, as he did most nights.

She felt Hinata spread something cool and tingling over her face, and then she felt her move away. Opening her eyes, she found her across the room, lighting a fire in the fireplace, and setting one of the warming bricks in the roaring depths. She came back and helped Mikoto from the bed, making no comment on her torn gown or the bruises she found on her body when she helped her change into fresh clothing. Mikoto sat before the fire while Hinata stripped the bed linens, disappeared, and came back with a fresh stack. She did all this, and re-made the bed, all without displacing a single hair of her elaborate coiffure or wrinkling the perfect folds of her kimono. Mikoto was in awe. _"You are an unusual serving woman," _she said as Hinata helped her into the bed again.

"_I am no one's servant, Mikoto-san. And neither are you."_ She refrained from meeting her eyes, letting the statement work on its own.

Mikoto understood. _"You don't know what he's capable of, what he's done. You can't come in here again."_

"_No one commands me," _Hinata said as she straightened and folded her hands into her sleeves. _"Least of all your husband. You worry needlessly. I intend to see you whenever I wish, and I think you'll find that your husband will have very little to say on the matter."_

"_No...he'll hurt you for this interference- he'll hurt _me_…"_

"_And yet you did nothing to stop me." _She placed a hand against the unbruised side of Mikoto's face, letting her thumb rest for a brief moment on the older woman's lips. _"You let me tend you knowing full well what he might do."_

Mikoto had the grace to lower her eyes. That caress was disconcerting. No one had ever touched her with such tenderness. _"You seem like a good, innocent, and kind young woman. You are no match for him, and confronting him will only get us both hurt. I don't want him to hurt me anymore than he already does. You can't come here again. Go, please. And thank you." _She turned her head away on the pillow in dismissal, away from that hand.

Hinata hid her smile of amusement as she went to the fire and used a specific cloth to wrap the warming brick in. She brought it to the bed and tucked it beneath the quilt, near Mikoto's cold feet before she went to the door. Here, she paused and spoke without turning around. _"Things are never as they 'seem', Mikoto-san. And as I stated before, no one commands me. Not you. Not your husband. No one. I will return."_

* * *

><p>Itachi was in his office, inspecting the ring of keys again. He was mentally identifying each, matching them to things they opened, when Neji brought the summons from the coroner to him on a small silver tray. "We'll leave at once," he said as he stood. "I also want to stop at my lawyer's while we're out."<p>

He considered trying to see his mother, to verify that she was all right as Neji left to bring his great coat and prepare the coach. Madara had left the house directly after breakfast_. Neji said Mother's room is locked. I don't have a key, seeing as she had the lock changed while I was away. I must see about hiring a locksmith. In any case, I'll only be gone a short while, and God willing I will have that usurper out of my house soon enough._

-oOo-_  
><em>

His father's face was surprisingly intact. A sheet covered him from the neck downwards, and the coroner kept his own eyes suspiciously lowered, as if to discourage any prying questions about the condition of the rest of the body. Itachi didn't pry, but he did whisk the sheet aside to see for himself.

It was not a sight for the faint of heart.

He said nothing, merely nodded, confirming that it was indeed his father, and sat through the subsequent details of seeing that he was buried on the family plot.

He felt an odd mixture of regret and anger at seeing his father again, but no love. There had never been love. And the anger was more for what his father had suffered than a result of any lingering resentment over his upbringing. He bowed to his father's body when all was said and done, and left the building.

Neji was waiting for him outside with the coach and horses. "The lawyer now, sir?"

"Please."

Neji hastened to let down the steps, and shut the coach door behind him once he'd climbed inside.

-oOo-

It was snowing again. Neji had warmed bricks and a heavy lap robe in the coach for his comfort. Itachi made good use of them on the drive to the other side of the city. Traffic was surprisingly heavy considering the weather, and the coach crawled. The bricks were cold by the time he climbed down and hurried into the heated offices of Yamanaka & Sons.

The original Yamanaka and most of the sons were dead. There was only the youngest son remaining, a man slightly older than Itachi's father had been. He was an esteemed member of the higher echelons of Itachi's social circle, greatly respected for his discretion and expertise. He stood up and gave the queer mixture of bow and handshake common to most _nisai_ Japanese in America. "I've been expecting you," Yamanaka Inoichi said quietly.

"Yes, I've no doubt that you were." Itachi took a seat in front of the old oaken desk without being invited, demonstrating his displeasure. "I don't suppose I need to explain my visit?"

Inoichi opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment a young man entered. He appeared to be albino, with white hair, and oddly colored eyes that went directly to Itachi as he bowed over and over. "Would Inoichi-dono and his esteemed guest like some tea?" he asked several times in heavily accented English.

"This is my new assistant," Inoichi said by way of an introduction. The glance he sent Itachi's way was short and meaningful. "Thank you, Suigetsu, but no. Please finish the filing I gave you earlier."

The young man left.

Aware now that free speech was impossible, Itachi didn't stay long. He made small talk and answered questions about his brother.

"I'm not exactly sure when or if Sasuke will be returning to New York," he said evasively. "He seems very happy in the sunny climes of Panama."

"I see. I hope I'm not prying?" Inoichi said gravely. "I only ask because my daughter seems to have set her cap for him. Her mother is in full support of it, and I confess my own approval of the match, should one take place."

Itachi pulled his mind from thoughts of Madara. "I understand. However, Sasuke has confided in me that he has no wish to settle down anytime soon."

"He might change his mind, if he and Ino were allowed to meet. She and her mother were invited to stay in Honolulu, and are there even now. Panama isn't too far from there, is it? Perhaps Sasuke could take a trip there with the sea captain I've heard he's befriended. I'm sure that once Sasuke sees her, he'll want to bring her back with him."

The stare he leveled at Itachi conveyed several things at once to the younger man. One, that his wife and daughter had been taken by Madara and were being held against their will in Hawaii. Two, that Inoichi was silently asking for Itachi's help, asking for him to send Sasuke to enact some sort of rescue. Three, that this possible help Itachi could give was likely a large part of the reason that Inoichi was still loyal to him.

It must also be said that Madara would not have stooped to such tactics with Inoichi unless the lawyer had opposed him. He didn't want to kill Inoichi, but he couldn't let opposition slide either, hence the kidnapping. And here Inoichi was, resisting still, by trying to elicit aid.

Itachi specifically recalled his father saying that Yamanaka Inoichi was possessed of a mental fortitude and coolness of reasoning in the face of adversity that had yet to be matched by anyone else in his acquaintance. He was forced now to agree with his father, and was doubly glad of the man's loyalty.

Keeping his eyes on Inoichi's, he gave a single noncommittal nod, something the eavesdropping Suigetsu would not hear, and might not interpret as agreement if he was watching.

Inoichi understood, though, and seemed to relax. He attempted to continue the conversation in what he considered a natural vein. "And what of you? Karin has been dead a year now. A man of your position needs heirs. Is there anyone who catches your interest?"

Unbidden, Neji's face swam to the forefront of Itachi's mind. The image was an unwelcome one, for reasons he couldn't immediately identify. Deciding that this meeting was over, he hastily got up and made his excuses. "I'm afraid I have pressing business elsewhere."

Inoichi stood as well, Itachi's frown shaming him with his own lack of manners. "I'm sorry, that was an unforgivably forward question. Of course it's too soon-"

"I'm afraid marriage is simply out of the question for me and my brother, that's all. Our circumstances are…difficult, to say the least."

"Of course, of course. Inexcusable for me to forget…everything."

Itachi paused as he donned his hat and gloves, and held his walking stick. "You and I will speak again in the near future."

"I'm at your service." Inoichi dipped his blond head in understanding.

* * *

><p>He'd told Neji he'd be an hour at least, likely more. Neji had said he would return in two, and that he had some business to attend to himself. Faced with time on his hands, Itachi considered hiring a hack to take him home; waiting in the small reception area was unthinkable, what with Suigetsu staring at him openly from behind his little desk. Itachi stood outside a moment, fighting the urge to stamp his feet from the cold, then opted to go for a short walk.<p>

He regretted it at once. The snow was black and slushy. It soaked through his shoes within minutes. Icy wind managed to find its way past his woolen scarf and down his neck. Some clumsy lout of a buggy driver splashed the lower part of his legs with frozen mud and slush as he was crossing the street, completing Itachi's misery. His face felt cracked and brittle from the force of the wind and he had to squint his watering eyes as he turned around to head back the way he'd come.

-oOo-

Two men appeared on either side of him, ushering him down a narrow side street, and into a back alley before he could do more than exclaim in surprise. A rock-like fist slammed against the back of his head, and that had his knees buckling. He was temporarily unable to stand, long enough for his attackers to land several blows to his gut, face, and back.

"Madara wants him alive."

Itachi heard this said in the rough speech of someone uneducated, but by then he'd found his anger.

It was too much. Just too…damned…much. It was _unthinkable_ that he should be subjected to this seemingly unending streak of unfortunate events. He was a member of high standing in society, a good man, of excellent character and breeding. It did not bear _consideration_ that he should be accosted thus while minding his own business, and it was absolutely _intolerable_ that Madara's interference should extend to a simple walk during the completion of an errand. He threw off his attackers with a rare curse and shrugged out of his coat, now hot with rage.

He couldn't say which of them seemed more surprised at the narrow sword he slipped free of his walking stick. The big silver-haired one stepped back, eyes narrowed. The one with the swarthy complexion stood his ground, though his bloodshot eyes were riveted to the narrow length of steel.

"I suppose you thought me too genteel to defend myself," Itachi sniffed. "What a pleasure it is to prove you wrong. Come then! You'll find no easy meat here."

Both men had their attention divided between the blade and his face as he spoke, and so were unprepared for his transformation from gentleman to aggressive opponent. They only had time to blink as he danced up to them. They were blind to the stunning roundhouse kick he slammed to one's head, and the punch to the throat he aimed at the other. His father's face and injuries, so recently seen, and the complex mix of emotions his manner of death called up, were ample fuel to Itachi's well-aimed blows.

They were hardy fighters, though, and trained. Itachi could see this as he nimbly skipped out of reach and repositioned himself. He recalled Madara saying that his men were trained in Japan and cautioned himself to show no mercy, despite overhearing that he was to be taken alive. Itachi had no intentions of being taken anywhere.

The silver-haired one withdrew a thin metal object from inside his coat, something Itachi initially mistook for a folding fan. But then the object was given a brief twist and jerk; three curving metal prongs shot free from where they'd been hidden inside the odd handle on the object. It was a miniature scythe, no longer than two feet, end to end. Itachi recognized Japanese craftsmanship. His eyes moved to the swarthy one, then back to the silver-haired one, chin lowered, breathing even.

They rushed him, and he moved in low and fast to meet them.

* * *

><p>Neji looked up and down the street, frantic. Inoichi said he'd seen Itachi walk off, heading east, but he could find no sign of him. He peered into shop windows with no luck, and no one he asked seemed to have seen anyone that fit Itachi's description. Worse, the snow was coming down thick and fast, all but obscuring his vision. The wind threatened to blow him down on several occasions. Looked like a blizzard was coming in.<p>

It was only after he was passing a narrow side street for the third time that he heard sounds of a scuffle taking place over the rising howl of the wind. Two large men stumbled out as he was running to investigate, trailing blood and casting glances behind them. Neji hesitated, wondering if they were relevant, but then Itachi came striding out to the sidewalk. He was winded, and sheathing his sword, staring after the two running men with a look of muted rage.

"Sir?" Neji ran to him. "Shit, you're hurt!"

Itachi ignored the profanity as Neji led him back to the alley. Now that the excitement was done and his blood was cooling, he found that he _was_ injured. He put a hand to his side and winced. His hand came away red. Neji cursed worse than before, and quite suddenly Itachi felt dizzy. The ground tilted at a slow, sickening angle.

"Easy, sir. Easy. I got you."

He felt strong hands steadying him against the alley's freezing brick wall, then his arm briskly pulled aside. Cold air hit his skin as his shirt and waistcoat were tugged free of his trousers. Another curse, whispered this time. "How bad is it?"

"I can't tell..." Neji was leaning against him, anchoring him to the wall with his body, it seemed. This was an intolerable breach of etiquette, but Itachi was quiet on the matter. Neji's body was very warm against his, as his hand probed along his mid-section. His hair swung right by Itachi's nose, smelling of almonds. Itachi inhaled the smell.

Neji looked up sharply, thinking it was a hiss of pain. "Did I hurt you?"

Almost nose to nose, Itachi was unable to look away. "No…"

There was a long moment of shared eye contact. Long and long. Itachi felt faint with the stare, and his heart was doing odd things in his chest. How long he stood with Neji's body against his, the man's hand beneath his shirt, he didn't know. The grey eyes moved to his mouth…and seemed to linger there against their will. All at once it seemed that Neji's weight against him took on a particular significance. Something danced at the edges of understanding, something important, but it remained just out of reach. Itachi opened his mouth to ask instead precisely why Neji felt it necessary to maintain such improper contact-

-but said nothing as his body seemed to grow very heavy as his legs gave out completely. The next moment he felt very light as he was lifted with the ease of one lifting a child. Neji swung him across his shoulders and began running.

And then he was on his back, rocking and swaying to the motion of the coach. He could hear the distant bark of Neji's voice as drove the horses hard. He could even hear the snap of the reigns, as more speed was demanded of the laboring team. There seemed to be no warmth in the world at all, and he began to shiver.

* * *

><p>Light, as a lamp was brought close to his head. Neji's pale eyes bending close to his face, his lids thumbed farther apart, his pupils assessed. No, not Neji. The hair was wrong, too dark. He knew the exact shade of Neji's hair. It was like chocolate. Chocolate with faint streaks of honey. No, this was the other. Cousin. Hinata. Her face showed only cool detachment, but there was a thread of worry in her tone.<p>

"_Poison. Paralytic, most likely. I have used it on occasion; it is to be administered sparingly, else the lungs will stop breathing entirely. See here, the weapon used on him was the method used to apply it. He has been stabbed and cut too many times. His heart lurches and stutters. I must purge him of the poison."_

"_What about the wounds? Fuck, I knew I should have chased those shits!" _That was Neji's voice, sounding a good deal more worried than his cousin's. The profanity was almost welcome. Itachi felt his insides warm toward the sound.

"_They are not deep. He defended himself well. Leave me while I tend him. He will be better by the morning."_

"_I-"_

"_Neji-kun."_

"_All right, all right. Mend him, Hinata. Please. I can't take him lying there all helpless."_

Then it was just the cousin. Something foul was poured down his throat. He tried to protest, to turn his head or move her hands, but his body remained still. Some fiery substance was smeared on his wounds, something that had him screaming in his mind, but no sound left his lips. And then the pinch of needle and thread was biting into his flesh again and again as Hinata stitched him with quick, neat precision.

More of the foul liquid in his mouth, then something sweet, something that burned fire in his belly once swallowed, and had him sweating profusely. Again the sweet stuff, and again, until his sheets were dripping with his sweat, and he at last began to feel the poison leaving him in his perspiration. He was able to move a little, enough to lift a weak hand when the cup touched his lips again, but it was only water this time. He drank thirstily, croaked for more, and had it given to him. Warm bricks, wrapped in flannel, were placed along his body, and a final something was fed to him on a small spoon, some kind of gritty paste. Almost at once he grew too drowsy to even remember his name.

Feeble as a babe, he slept.

* * *

><p>Madara arrived home in a buoyant mood that evening. He'd been out to see about bringing his men to the house under the guise of staff. He'd been contacted midway through his errand by the very ones he'd been seeking. Apparently, they had followed Itachi, as instructed, should the man attempt a meeting with his lawyer. There'd been an altercation. His men were badly bruised and sliced, but they'd had worse. Hidan was sure he'd returned the injuries with interest. Knowing Hidan's preferred method of weaponry very well, Madara expected to find Itachi easy pickings when he walked into the manor. He would deal with the Hyuuga himself. Why, he might not even need his men to assist him.<p>

The manor was silent, as usual. He would check on Mikoto first, then see about locating Itachi.

Needless to say, he was badly shocked to see Mikoto not only reclining in the sitting room of their suite, wounds attended to, but she also had a tray of food on her lap. He closed the door with a snap, face murderous.

"Who," he hissed. It was all he needed to say. Mikoto's face was stretched into an expression of extreme fear, something that slightly mollified Madara, but did nothing to arouse pity.

"It was the woman, the Hyuuga woman, Hinata," Mikoto babbled at once. "I had nothing to do with it! She came in here, she had the medicines, she-"

"Silence."

It was good that she had no interest in protecting this Hinata, but it was _not_ good that she'd apparently allowed herself to be seen to. Worse, much worse, was the Hyuuga woman's nerve. She'd dared enter here and tamper with what was his. There was no fear of him in her. In either Hyuuga, if he was honest with himself. Neji, he could understand, but the woman…it galled him to admit that her threat yesterday had put a shiver of unease in his belly. He'd seen the danger of her immediately, of course, advertising it the way she was, but to actually _address_ him with that _Haiku_, to threaten him, and to show her utter contempt for him and what he could do by entering _his_ room to tend to his _wife_…

He would not, could not, approach the Hyuuga woman until he knew exactly who and what she was. He had his suspicions. Yes. In the meantime, there was Mikoto.

He walked over to where she sat quivering in her chair, head bowed in fear. "I did not give you leave to accept anyone's ministrations," he said in soft, smooth voice. "Nor are you to eat unless I have given you food. I know you know this, Mikoto. Or am I mistaken?"

She shook her head quickly, too intimidated to speak or look up.

"Look at me when I speak to you."

Mikoto hesitantly raised her head and lifted her eyes to his.

Madara slapped her without warning.

The tray toppled from her grasp with a great clatter of dishes as Mikoto and the chair were both rocked to the floor with the force of the blow. She did not cry out, but only huddled in the mess, face averted.

"That will teach you to defy me," Madara said calmly. He stood looking down at her a moment, until he was satisfied that his authority had been firmly re-established. When he turned to go, he found the doorway filled with the silent presence of the Hyuuga woman.

* * *

><p>Itachi woke from a deep, dreamless sleep to find himself in bed, in his room, with very little strength and a raging thirst. He tried to sit up.<p>

"Don't move." The voice was low and relieved, and Neji appeared at his side to lean over him. "How do you feel, sir?"

"Thirsty."

There was the clink of glass as Neji turned away to pour from a pitcher on the bedside table. Itachi saw the pitcher set back in a bowl of melting snow.

Neji had to hold the glass for him. He couldn't even support his own head. This necessitated Neji's hand on the back of his neck. It was warm and strong, and reminded Itachi inexplicably of the alley. He remembered Neji leading him back there, inspecting him. Something had happened there that he could not now recall, but he felt especially close to Neji just then as he gulped water with all the grace of a starving tramp. He felt…comforted by Neji's presence, and his warm hand on him. He was set back down gently on his pillow, and the glass set aside. He didn't immediately tell Neji to move his hand from where it now rested on his chest, instead focusing on something that seemed very important. "Madara. Does he know?"

"He's here, I heard him come in a few minutes ago. I don't see how he could know you're injured. My cousin certainly won't tell him."

"He might know anyway." Itachi recounted his run-in with his attackers. "They were Madara's men. Followed me from Yamanaka, most likely. And there's another of Madara's men planted in that office as Yamanaka's assistant."

Neji's face tightened. "Sir-"

"My decision stands."

"I suppose it will stand until he kills you too then, is that it? Did it occur to you that honor can only carry you so far? That you'll be missed by those who care about you?"

The insolence of that outburst had them freezing for several moments. Itachi glared at his servant, and Neji met the look with a challenging, defiant one of his own. Black clashed with grey. An undercurrent of emotion throbbed between them; Neji's worry, Itachi's awareness of it mixed with his disapproval of Neji showing it. Feelings and emotions were to be kept in check at all times between master and servant.

Itachi let his silence rebuke Neji for his rudeness and lack of respect. A moment later Neji apologized. Still annoyed, Itachi deliberately ignored it. "I won't stay in this room and give him an impression of my weakness."

"Sir, you don't have the strength to go down to dinner."

Itachi's voice cracked out like a whip. "You _will_ stop contradicting me, Neji. You're still my servant, is that understood?"

"Perfectly. Sir."

"Bring my clothes."

While Neji moved around the room, lighting lamps, and selecting dinner attire, Itachi carefully pushed himself to a sitting position. He was able to reach across and retrieve the glass of water himself, though he nearly dropped it, and drank from it as some measure of strength returned. "Attacked in my home," he said when he'd drained the glass. "And now attacked in the street with a poisoned blade. By God, he has gone too far. There will be a reckoning, that I promise. I know you feel I'm too lenient, Neji, but fear not. I have no mercy in me for Madara, but until I learn more, I'm afraid stooping to his level serves no purpose…though I did give a proper account of myself against his thugs. Your worry is commendable, Neji, but you must have patience. All will be made right."

Neji didn't answer.

Itachi felt his silence like a cold wind. There were no accidental glances that heated the skin now as he came and dressed him; Neji kept his eyes down.

"I can walk on my own," Itachi murmured when he was dressed. "While we walk, tell me where you went today. What errand did you run?"

Equal parts torn by the need to put Itachi back in bed and join him there, and seething with thwarted rage, Neji grudgingly told of how he'd gone in search of staff.

* * *

><p>Madara hesitated. Only a second, a length of time that would have gone unnoticed by any Westerner. However, trained to pick up on the slightest twitch of eye or shift in stance as the occupants of the room were, that single second of hesitation on Madara's part was as much as a shout.<p>

In it, Madara's uncertainty concerning Hinata became plain.

Hinata's advantage over Madara, whatever it was, was glaringly obvious.

And Mikoto witnessed a crack of weakness in her husband for the first time.

She stared from her place on the floor, through the disheveled mess of her hair, as Hinata seemed to float into the room, right past her tight-jawed husband. Hinata knelt before her in a whisper of silken kimono and light, flowery scent.

Madara stewed in silence. Silence was the only thing keeping him from losing more face than he already had. To say anything at this point would only call attention to his blistering shame, the coals of which he now roasted over. Obviously, to upbraid Hinata for her interference would prove futile; the woman had no fear of him, and he'd displayed his reluctance to approach her. She would taunt him, or worse, ignore him completely. No, better to keep his peace and pretend, at least on the surface, that she was there by dint of his unspoken permission. He watched, stiff with insult, as the bitch murmured to Mikoto.

_What I need_, he thought suddenly, _is someone to deal with Hyuuga Hinata specifically. Someone on her level. And until I find such a person, I must have power over her. Her and Neji both._

* * *

><p>It seemed to Itachi that most, if not all, of his confrontations with Madara seemed to happen over one meal or another. This notion amused him for some reason. He snorted out a soft chuckle. Neji looked at him askance as he helped him sit down. Then Itachi saw that he was sitting at the head of the table, where Madara had taken to sitting, and the chuckle grew to a wheeze that hurt his weakened body, and pulled at his stitches. Neji's look of concern only made it worse, and before long he was leaning forward, unable to sit erect as a small bout of aberrant hysteria gripped him.<p>

This vanished the moment he saw Hinata coming into the dining room with his mother on her arm. Hinata looked as composed as ever, but his mother looked like a frightened rabbit being led into a den of wolves. Madara walked behind them, his face showing a blankness that could not bode well. Sober now, and looking at Neji wonderingly, Itachi stood up as the women entered the room.

"Mother," he stammered. His eyes noted the bruises all over her face, even as he noticed that her hand was bandaged and that she seemed to be clinging to Hinata's arm. "Are you well?"

Mikoto cast a glance behind her at where Madara stood, bit her lip, and returned her eyes to Itachi. "Y-yes, son. I…" But that was all. She lowered her eyes and face.

Hinata led Mikoto directly to the place immediately to Itachi's left. He hastened to pull the chair out as his mother was seated, and pushed it in for her. Neji did the same for Hinata, once his cousin had moved to the place opposite his mother and to the left of Itachi's seating place. When the women were seated, Itachi returned to his own chair. As one, Neji, and the women looked to where Madara was standing in the dining room doorway.

Madara stood in humiliation, seeing that he would have to take the inferior seat at the other end of the table. It galled him to do so, but to do otherwise and walk out would be to concede defeat completely. This, on top of the unforgivable insult of having Mikoto taken from him so easily, he could not do. Had he known that Itachi would even be down tonight, he would have forgone the trip upstairs completely. As it was, Itachi looked slightly pale, but otherwise no different from usual. Certainly not as if he'd been in a serious altercation only this morning. He didn't look as if he'd been poisoned at all.

But his men would be here in the morning. More than enough to put things back in his control. As vexing as it was to need assistance, this was why one had men in the first place. Were it a matter of simply pitting himself against Itachi, or Neji, or Hinata, he would handle it himself, but against all three…no. Consoled with the knowledge of reinforcements on the way, he moved to the chair at the opposite end of the table, far away from the cluster at Itachi's end, and sat.

The table was already set with food and tall, flickering candles, so Madara served himself, but Neji served everyone else tonight. There was silence as the small, artistic portions of the Japanese fare were consumed.

-oOo-

"Mother," Itachi said after the second course was served. "Your face…" His eyes moved across the table to Madara, and he lowered his voice. "He can't do this to you."

Mikoto said nothing, but Hinata spoke up in a voice loud enough to be heard by all in the room. _"As I have told her myself. You need not fear, Itachi-san. Your mother will receive no further injuries, of that I am certain."_

Itachi and Mikoto stared in shock at her, but Hinata slid her eyes sideways, to where Madara had paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He resumed eating as if he hadn't heard, but Hinata returned her eyes to her plate with a satisfied air.

Mikoto timidly glanced to her right, along the table to where her husband sat. His eyes rose at that moment to meet hers. The look in them was so full of venom that she quickly looked back down at her own food.

"_Would Mikoto-san perhaps like to rest in a guest bedroom tonight?" _Hinata asked pleasantly. _"My own quarters are even more suitable. I would be able to tend to your existing injuries. There is more than enough space. We would not be disturbed, I assure you." _Her eyes barely flicked left, in Madara's direction.

Remembering her husband's look of only moments ago, Mikoto had serious doubts on whether or not he would heed the veiled warnings Hinata had given. She spoke toward her plate. _"That is very kind of you, Hinata…Hinata-san. But my place is with my…husband."_

"Mother, _no_-"

"Your mother has spoken," Madara interrupted as he sat back from his plate, speaking at last. "I'm sure you don't want things to get any worse, Itachi. Her health has suffered enough. You don't look well yourself, now that I think on it. Seems your family is a sickly lot. Why, if you aren't careful, some illness or accident might befall Sasuke as well. I think I'll telegram my men in Panama to keep an extra close watch on him…for his safety, you understand."

Itachi's hand tightened on his napkin, near his plate.

Madara made a show of looking around the room. "The service here is deplorable, but no matter. I've hired staff. They should be here first thing in the morning. I think," he said with a small smile, "that tomorrow will prove most interesting, yes?"

Just then the doorbell chimed long and loudly throughout the house, making them all grow still. Who could be calling at such an hour? Neji left to answer it.

When he came back, it was at the head of a short line of individuals that made Itachi stare. He stood up slowly, even as Madara did. "Neji?" Itachi said carefully. "What is the meaning of this?"

Neji bowed, and the men with him bowed as well. It was then that Itachi noticed that one of the men was in fact a woman. He'd never seen a woman dressed in such a way, with pants and a top straining across her considerable girth, and her hair cropped shorter than a man's. All of them, the men and woman, were dressed poorly, and somewhat unclean. They looked at Itachi with steady, forthright gazes.

"Sir, this is the staff I hired today," Neji explained as he straightened up. "From the left, they are Maito Gai, Aburame Shibi, Nara Shikaku, and Akimichi Chouza. The woman there is Chouza's wife. I know each of them personally, sir, as I grew up with their children. They, however, grew up in Japan, and as such are in possession of an eclectic set of skills I think you'll find most useful. Do you approve, sir?"

Itachi was at a loss for words. If an individual presented themselves for the position of servant in a great house, they did so dressed in their very best, meticulously clean, and with their eyes decently lowered. No one would even think of applying if they weren't handsome and presentable. Whatever these people had been doing before they'd come here tonight, Itachi was willing to bet that it wasn't serving. These people looked as if they'd never served anyone a day in their lives. They were old, for one thing, somewhere around his mother's age. And they were scarred. Servants were to be young and able-bodied.

These were not servants, nor were they here to serve him.

It hit Itachi then, the truth of his situation. Despite everything –his father's death, Madara's presence, his mother's injuries, the attacks on his own person- he'd continued to think, erroneously, that things weren't quite as bad as Neji seemed to believe. Murder, poison…Remarkable as they were, he'd managed to receive these things intellectually. He hadn't _seen_ his father murdered, or been particularly conscious through the worst of his recent confinement with Hinata, so he'd managed to convince himself that though the situation _was_ serious, it simply wasn't _that_ _bad_.

The sight of the men and woman Neji stood beside forcibly ripped the blinders from Itachi's eyes. They were a private army if ever he'd seen one. Things were not only as bad as Neji feared, they were worse. My God, he was actually sitting at the same table and breaking bread with the man who'd calmly broken his mother's hand right before his eyes, Itachi thought with a shiver. The same man who killed his father and threatened Sasuke with no more effort than one took to comment on the weather. He blamed his own ruthless father, and the occasional violence he'd administered for hardening him against what should have been an immediate outrage.

Never had he come across a situation he couldn't handle. Society bowed to the rich and connected, as he most certainly was. For a moment, Itachi felt a crippling sense of insecurity. This, Madara and everything else, it was too much for him. His father was the one who should be here, and just then Itachi knew a sharp longing for the man. His father's steady, stern presence had grated against both his and Sasuke's nerves in life, but now…

But his father was dead. His murderer stood barely ten paces away. _And if I'm not careful, I will find myself in the grave next to his. Sasuke and I both. And my mother._

He looked at the new applicants again, re-assessing them. He hadn't missed the mention of Japan and skills, just as he knew that whoever Madara brought here tomorrow would likely be more of the same men he'd encountered in that alley today. He understood that now, with the arrival of these rough-hewn individuals staring him in the eye. He also realized that Neji had known this the first time Madara had mentioned staff. His situation _had_ worsened to the point of life and death. Imminent death, at that.

He looked around the room. Madara was standing ramrod straight, his eyes sharp and narrow as he took in the new arrivals. His mother was looking at the strangers with wide eyes, and Hinata was looking at _him_ with a directness that was rare for her. _What will you do? _that look said.

What indeed.

When he finally looked at Neji, he saw his servant give an imperceptible nod, urging him to accept. If Neji felt he needed these men in the house, then there could be no question of accepting. His equally slight nod said so, and he saw Neji's shoulders loosen. Hinata looked back down at her plate.

Itachi straightened his own spine, smoothing his hands down the front of his dinner jacket as he answered the question at last. "Excellent, Neji. I trust your judgment in the matter, of course," he said formally. "I approve. Show the new staff to their quarters. I'll be along in the den to interview them properly as soon as we're done here. That will be all."

Neji kept himself from beaming only with an effort. Yet, as he led the new 'servants' past Madara, he couldn't resist leaning close to that thunderous countenance and whispering, "_What was that you were saying about tomorrow?_"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I think I will dedicate this fic to **Garmiet**. I can honestly say that in my present disenchantment with fan fiction as a whole, the thought of him being disappointed at not reading the rest of this fic is an almost tangible thing to me. I know many of you want to read this as well, but he's the one who reviewed every single chapter of _Save_ _Me_ in frightening detail, and every chapter of this so far in the same way. He's the one who had a nightmare about this fic not being continued during the long stretch between chapters one and two, and sent me a frantic PM asking if he'd just had a premonition. He's also the one who really convinced me to write BMH 22, so yes. This fic is now dedicated to him.

Also, there is fan art of Neji as he is in this fic up on my profile, done by **La Vita A Colori**. His hair isn't as long as I describe it, and he's dressed a bit more formally than how he is when working in the manner, but it's him.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

Itachi sat the minimum quarter of an hour with Mikoto in the drawing room after dinner. He had no desire for brandy, but accepted a cup of tea, along with his mother and Hinata, that Neji served. His mother seemed afraid of her shadow, jumping at every minor noise. She didn't speak when he asked if she was all right. He ended up spending the short time studying Hinata over the rim of his cup.

Aware now of the subtleties taking place around him, Itachi thought the fact that Hinata put Madara off in some way was now painfully obvious. The knowledge left him feeling an interesting mixture of excitement and curiosity. All he saw, all Hinata _projected_, was an image of a properly demure, respectful, and unfailingly correct woman of refinement. Madara clearly saw something else, something that evidently discouraged him from even approaching Hinata; he could have stopped her from bringing his mother, alone as they'd been on the third floor, but didn't. What was it about the woman that had stayed Madara's hand?

The only remarkable thing that Itachi could see was her height. She was tall for a woman, perhaps only an inch shorter than his own 5'10. Certainly taller than his mother. Even so, she managed to convey the aura of delicate perfection he'd read that Japanese women were famous for. Her traditional garb was flawless, and her hair ornaments were attractive accentuations to her elaborately styled coiffure.

_Look at me, contemplating women's fashion when I have serious matters to settle, _he thought wryly. He set his half-finished tea on the small table by his chair and stood up. Whatever her ability to repel Madara, Itachi was exceedingly grateful to Hinata for the assistance she'd been able to render his mother. He said so now, and assured her that her kindness would not be forgotten. _"I'm afraid I must leave you both now,"_ he finished. He spoke to both Hinata and his mother. _"There are things I must discuss with Neji. Good Night." _He bowed and made his exit, though the bow pulled at his stitches.

-oOo-

In fact, his entire body was quite fatigued by the time he made it to the den. He'd been able to ignore the majority of his pain during dinner, but now he was drained and only managed to walk erect by dint of his will. He sat in the chair behind his desk, and managed to hold in his sigh of relief. Neji seemed to read the truth of his condition with his sharp eyes, though, if the tightness of his mouth was any indication.

The new arrivals were present, standing in a line behind Neji, across from his desk. They still had snow melting in their hair, and off their clothes, dripping onto the expensive Aubusson carpet. "Neji? If you please," he invited. He wanted this over so that he could retire.

Neji lost no time. "It's as I said, sir, I know these men personally. Their sons are Naruto's employees down in Panama. They will be loyal to you, seeing as they consider you to be family."

"Family?"

"Yes, sir. Naruto is like a son to them. And since Sasuke is so important to Naruto, he's considered a son as well, and thus any relative of Sasuke's is equally important. See, Madara won't be able to bribe these men. He probably won't threaten their children either, and he'd likely think twice about approaching them without reinforcements. Until I can scrounge up more, these will serve to guard you under the guise of servitude."

"I thought you were guarding me?"

"Yes, sir. Of course. But I can't be at your side all hours of the day, not if I'm to handle your business affairs as well, and quite frankly with Madara bringing in his own men I'd prefer a bit of help."

Itachi leaned back and considered all this. He had little doubt that his father would have been horrified at the company his sons now kept, but he could see no alternative. He was reduced to accepting what assistance was available to him and would consider himself lucky in the bargain.

He looked to the den window, which was now completely white. "I doubt anyone will be arriving in that storm tomorrow. In fact, I don't see how these men made it, but I'm glad they are here. You've done well, Neji. Very well indeed. I'm pleased."

Neji bowed low. "Thank you, sir."

Speaking to the men and woman for the first time, Itachi said, "In addition to the services Neji has hired you for, you will report any and all activity in this house you witness from Madara. And I'll expect your protection to extend to my mother."

"Sir, Hinata is handling your mother," Neji interposed.

"And she is doing an admirable job, but she is a woman. Should Madara take it into his head to abscond with her, I'd rest easier knowing that there are men prepared to prevent that. Especially in my weakened condition."

Neji refrained from mentioning that no one in the room could possibly hope to match Hinata, instead bowing his head in deference to Itachi's wishes. Let the man think he was in control of things. "If there is nothing else, sir, I'll just see to getting them settled before I ready you for bed."

Itachi waved them all away.

* * *

><p>Mikoto could truthfully say that this evening was the first time she'd felt remotely calm or in possession of her own wits in over a year. She did not have complete composure, but she had a great deal more than before. Any was far better than none at all. Yes. And she knew that the young woman sitting to her right was the source. She watched Hinata unobtrusively, as her son had done a short time ago.<p>

That moment of hesitation from Madara earlier had been telling. Of course she hadn't believed Hinata when she'd said Madara would have little, if anything, to say on the matter of the Hyuuga's interference. She would not have believed that anyone capable of the atrocities she'd seen Madara perpetrate could also be cowed by a woman. A mere _woman_. Such a thrilling thought. A sharp lance of hope and vindictive satisfaction had pierced her at witnessing that scene in the bedroom. She had let Hinata help her to her feet and guide her past her speechless husband, and on down the stairs.

Whether or not he would truly stop beating her remained to be seen. Hinata's threats had been just as clear as Madara's, but she wasn't acquainted with the woman well enough to know if she could really hold Madara at bay if her husband chose to challenge those threats. Time would tell. If only she could be sure that she would escape retribution, she would put herself in Hinata's care at once. She'd grown up with a strict father, who'd passed her off to a strict husband, and to be pampered physically the way Hinata had done today was divine.

Mikoto had always believed she deserved a life of privilege. Fugaku had provided handsomely, but he had never been affectionate or romantic, and he had not cared about her comforts beyond seeing that she'd been clothed in a manner befitting her station. Her own former personal maid had been a young woman terrified of Mikoto's sharp tongue and Fugaku's icy calm. She'd never had someone like Hinata, who appeared so competent, in whose presence she felt so…she could find no word that would fit. She only knew that Hinata's pleasant calm, and mysterious advantage over Madara left her feeling secure. That was the word. She felt secure. _Safe_.

When Madara appeared in the doorway, she and Hinata both stood. Behind Hinata's ornamental fan, her pale eyes were steady on Madara's black ones. Mikoto almost, _almost_, decided to stay with the younger woman, but then she remembered what Madara said he would do to her sons if she ever disobeyed him. Suddenly, letting Hinata lead her to dinner seemed like a bad idea.

She moved toward her husband, head down, and let herself be led upstairs.

* * *

><p>Neji moved slowly, supporting Itachi as he guided him down the hall to his room. He could see Gai stationed at the far end of the hall, and knew that Shibi was one floor up, in the hall outside the master suite. Both were polishing silver, but this was only a ruse. He gave a small nod to Gai as he and Itachi finally gained the suite of rooms the latter occupied.<p>

-oOo-

Itachi was sweating by the time Neji finally helped him sit on his bed. His wounds ached something fierce, and he had no strength, none at all. Hinata swept in soon after Neji began carefully undressing him.

Her lips thinned the faintest bit. _"He has been too active too soon after my care. His bandages bleed."_

It was true, Itachi saw when he glanced down. A few of the bandages were indeed showing spots of red.

"_You must remain in bed a week, Itachi-san," _Hinata went on in clipped tones. She seemed rather upset over something._ "You must heed me, or you will not heal. Lay back. Neji-kun, watch closely." _She unwrapped Itachi's torso and briskly took up a small jar from the basket of medicines she'd brought_. "This one is to cleanse the wounds and stitches. This one prevents infection. This you will apply last, after the first two. Wrap him securely in these linens I have prepared. I have treated the material with my herbs. His bandages are to be changed, and his wounds cleaned, every 12 hours." _She lectured as she applied the ointments herself, making Itachi wince as he felt the burning pain from before, and then sigh as she smeared a cooling paste over the burning one._ "This is opium. Give him one small spoonful –this spoon here- if his pain is severe, or if he is not sleeping. And be sure to soak the cleansing sponges I have provided in this separate batch of opium here. Do not make the mistake of giving him the wrong batch, as the one for his wounds is stronger."_

Finished, Hinata set the basket of medicines on his bedside table and made to leave. "Thank you," Itachi said. She inclined her head, confirming what he'd discovered at dinner. "My mother?" he asked, still deliberately using English.

"_With her husband. Good night, Itachi-san." _She left.

Having Neji dress him in bed was very different from standing for the same procedure, Itachi found. In bed, and weakened as he was, Neji was forced to touch him a great deal more. He had to lift Itachi's legs to put them into his night trousers, and support his torso as he tugged on the matching flannel shirt. He finished by securing Itachi's hair in a loose braid, and draping it over one shoulder, before easing him back down. He remained leaning over Itachi as he drew the quilt up his chest. "Will that be all, sir?"

"I believe so, yes."

"In that case, may I suggest that I remain in your room for the next few nights?"

Itachi felt his insides roll over slowly. He met Neji's downward stare with a narrowed one of his own. "What happened to remaining in the sitting room?"

"You're injured, sir. Should you require immediate assistance, I might not get to you in time. What if you wanted something in the night?"

Itachi thought this over. "I can shout for you easily enough…or ring for you."

"Yes, I suppose you could. But Hinata told me that sometimes patients worsen in the night, while they are asleep. Sir, I'd open my veins if anything happened to you while you were in my care."

That was a more persuasive argument. It was well known how people apparently on the mend from some ailment frequently took a turn for the worse in their sleep, when the night's ill winds blew. Why, sometimes they were discovered dead in the morning. Upon reflection, his room _was_ a bit drafty. "You're quite right. You may stay, Neji. Stoke the fire please, and bring warming bricks."

"At once, sir. Should I bring a pot of tea and your brandy?"

A novel question to be put to him when he was in his bed. Itachi realized that the hour was early yet, and that though he was fatigued, he was not necessarily sleepy. He suddenly remembered Hinata. "I think that's a fine idea. While you're about it, would you also bring me some books from the library, Neji? There is an entire bookcase filled with volumes from Japan. Bring me any that deal with…" he thought a moment. "Traditional practices such as clothing and…women," he said awkwardly. "But the fire and bricks first, if you please."

Neji frowned in confusion, but set about doing as he was bidden. Itachi basked in the blazing warmth wafting from the fireplace once the fire was roaring, and settled back against his plumped pillows once the bricks were put beneath the quilt. Quite cozy now, he reached for the ring of keys Neji had set on the bedside table once his servant left to see about the brandy and books. He held it a moment, then hooked it inside his trousers. He folded his hands on his lap and proceeded to wait.

* * *

><p>Madara ignored Mikoto completely once they were in their rooms. He would deal with her insolence in time. At present he was in a bit of a fix. He could hear the man he'd passed in the hall outside his room, dusting the portraits on the wall. He'd made note of the names that Hyuuga had uttered, and knew the man's name to be Aburame Shibi. He knew of the Aburame clan. There were rumors that they employed poisoned insects, those of them inclined to combat. He hadn't known any of that clan were in the Americas, or indeed any of the Nara and Akimichi clans. They couldn't be considered equal to Uchiha, but then…it was best not to underestimate one's opponent. Ever. And he was only one Uchiha, arguably the greatest one to ever live, but alone just the same. The thought of being surrounded by enemies, of perhaps laying his person in that large bed in the next room and having some roach finish him off, or…or any number of scenarios, kept him stiff and silent in the overstuffed chair he occupied, lost in thought.<p>

He didn't need to look at the windows to know a blizzard raged outside. Who knew how long it would last? He was only recently quit of Honolulu, where the weather was warm year round. This…he had no experience with snow this severe, but he knew enough to recognize that it would be days before it abated, and then who knew how long before his men could reach him. Damn and blast.

He was stuck.

With this much manpower at his disposal, Itachi could strike at him. That would not put the majority of the Uchiha holdings back in his grasp, but still. No, not Itachi. Itachi was weak. A gentleman. If anything, it would be that meddling Hyuuga he would need to watch for. That man…Neji. Neji was dangerous, Madara admitted. He hadn't attacked yet only because Itachi forbade it, Madara was certain. And Itachi would continue to err on the side of caution so long as his mother and brother were beneath Madara's thumb. And Mikoto was slipping from him. He really only had Sasuke, though he'd received a telegram today while he was out stating that two telegrams had arrived in Panama, encoded. It must be assumed that Naruto was on his guard. No matter. Naruto could be gotten around. The second telegram was worrying. It must be assumed that it had gone to Sasuke, at which point he might decide to rush to Itachi's aid, dragging Naruto and the sons of the very men in this house with him. That would take some days, by which time he fervently hoped the snowstorm would have blown itself out.

Everything was in such a delicate balance. If Mikoto denounced him entirely, Itachi would strike. If he dared punish Mikoto without his own men here, Hinata would strike. And at any moment, Itachi might give the order, in which case the men and the Hyuuga alike would each attack him while he was trapped in this _bloody_ house by this _bloody_ storm.

And he must not forget his entire reason for showing any leniency in the first place: to act too hastily, without getting what he'd come for, would be to risk Itachi destroying what Fugaku had taken from him. Until he'd safely retrieved his legacy from Itachi, he could not shed too much blood. He had to be careful here, oh so careful.

The longer he sat, the tenser he became.

* * *

><p>Neji came back and poured the tea and brandy, while Itachi pored over the armload of books he'd dumped on the bed. He arranged them in neat piles to either side of his hips. He was looking over one about <em>Ikebana <em>by the time Neji arranged blankets and a pillow on the floor before the hearth.

For a few moments the sight of Neji readying himself for bed captivated him. One never saw their servants in such a state, or saw them sleeping. He found the way Neji stripped until he was topless quite as fascinating as he had that day in the stables, and the way all that long hair was now brushed loose made Itachi's belly quiver. He was staring, he realized, and hastily returned his attention to the books.

There wasn't much he found very helpful. An hour later, he was informed of the fact that kimono were layered to show a specific color pattern depending on the season. Color schemes had specific names. Hair ornaments, or _kanzashi_, were likewise chosen with particular care. He was about to close the book, when a stray paragraph caught his eye.

'_Kanzashi have evolved through the centuries to take on the appearance of flowers, leaves, and other aesthetically pleasing depictions of nature. In the past, they were used as weapons, often coated with poison, and most often worn by samurai and members of _kinu no u~ebu_…"_

Itachi looked up from the book. _Kinu no u~ebu _could more or less be translated to 'the silken web.' What was that? Perhaps some secret society. He'd heard of a few.

Well, now he knew that there was a possibility Hinata's hair ornaments were poisoned weapons. That was very interesting. What sort of gently bred noblewoman carried around poisonous weapons? The thug who'd attacked him today was nothing like Hinata, and yet Itachi distinctly recalled hearing the woman say that she too had used the paralytic poison on occasion. Who _was_ she?

Flipping through the pages of a book he'd skimmed earlier, he pulled up the images of samurai warriors he'd seen. Yes, there were the depictions of female samurai…but Hinata was not dressed as they were, not at all. Armor indeed. The very idea of anyone wearing armor in this day and age was ridiculous. He read for a moment, turned a page, then came across a passage that had him bringing the lamp closer.

'_Tessen-jutsu. The art of fighting with tessen. Samurai were skilled in the use of tessen, but none were ever more skilled than _Kinu no u~ebu no haha. Kumo, _as she is more rightfully known, has never been identified, so her existence is more legend than fact, but it is said that she is a fighter without equal, and has taught her disciples, _Kinu no u~ebu,_ the art of tessen-jutsu, as well as other signature arts._'

He stopped here, again frowning at the book. Checking to make sure, he saw that the book was only a few years old. _Mother of the silken web, _and_ the silken web. _That was the second reference he'd come across now. And apparently the mother of the silken web was more commonly know as The Spider.

Abruptly, he was very tired. Spiders and silken webs…Hinata might be mysterious, but she was no samurai, of that he was sure. No, Madara probably had another reason for disliking her. He stacked the books one by one on the bedside table, wincing when this movement pulled his stitches. Neji seemed to be asleep, or he would have asked him to do it. The man had done much today, and though he _was_ there to serve, Itachi took pity on him.

The stack became too high for him to set the last book on it. Itachi held it in his hand a moment, reading the title. _Japanese Practices and Customs Through the Ages_. As with the others, it was an entirely Japanese text. This was one he'd read years ago, though. It was the very book he'd discussed with Sasuke at dinner last September, when he'd revealed that he'd lain with Naruto.

A curious need to open the book now came over him.

He found the chapter he'd spoken of to Sasuke almost at once, and settled back to read. This time he paid particular attention to the passage dealing with same-sex practices, riveted, and studied the illustrations. It was a fold-out page, in color, of a man and his male lover embracing, faces nearly touching-

_Neji leaning against him in the alley, a hand beneath his shirt, against his skin._

_-_and mouths very close to each other. There was some small text below the illustration, words explaining _seme_ and _uke_, that had him lifting the book closer to his face to read in the dim light.

'_The _seme_ is typically taller and older than the _uke_, more powerful, or else stronger in some other respect, while the _uke_ is usually younger, sometimes only a boy, and is generally weaker. The greater the difference in power, the greater the pleasure. The relationship of man and boy is not uncommon, though unions have evolved to include a number of age and height combinations. Attraction has been known to bloom between older _uke_ and younger _seme_. It-'_

Itachi stopped reading. That earlier memory of Neji leaning against him in the alley was suddenly replaced with another: The long eye contact they'd shared just before Neji had dropped his eyes to Itachi's mouth.

A shiver went through him at remembering that. Neji had stared at his _mouth_. Something, some explanation rushed at him from the edges of incomprehension. Some form of understanding was abruptly about to make itself known. Itachi lifted a hand to his mouth, as if by covering it, he could protect it from the stare it had already received (and was still receiving in his memory), and protect himself from something he suspected he'd rather not deal with. Something unpleasant and frightening. He breathed for a few seconds in that position, mouth covered, eyes wide and looking anywhere but at Neji…

But there really was no denying the memories now that they had come. They came regardless, marching over his flimsy shield as if it didn't exist.

That alley. That look. His heart had been pounding, he recalled. He'd felt woozy. Surely that had been the effects of the poison working in him, he tried to tell himself. Neji. Staring at his mouth as if he'd wanted...

The book slowly lowered until he could peer over the edge of it, across the room, to where his servant was stretched out before the fire, on his stomach, head pillowed on his stacked forearms. He stared at Neji for a long time, still holding the revelation at bay, denying it, forcing himself to deny it; to allow it space in his mind would be to admit that…what? That Neji harbored some sort of…of _regard_ for him? Romantic _feelings_?

But the thoughts didn't stop there, oh no. Now that they'd arrived, they brought all manner of hidden, ignored, unrecognized, _unrealized_ things with them. Things such as the fact that he himself had given a few stares…and that the moment in the alley had not been particularly unwelcome or unpleasant.

His hand tightened on his mouth, tightened until his fingers were digging into his flesh.

For a few more seconds it seemed he would be successful, and keep the final revelation at bay, but it was no use. Nor was it a revelation; the knowledge had been with him for some time, he admitted, he'd just never really looked at it or understood it. Eyes wide and roaming over the way that long brown hair fell over bare shoulders, Itachi confronted the fact that maybe, possibly, _im_possibly, that he and Neji…well, that he was…that there was…

It was the word attraction that had done it. Unable to voice it, even in his thoughts, Itachi nevertheless let it rest at the edges of his mind, tentatively turning it over and over. He tried to tell himself it was ridiculous, absurd, and completely untrue, but as he stared at Neji, all his confusion and bewilderment of the past few months seemed to be suddenly absent. He was left with a deep quiet within himself, a stillness. In it, the fact was plain and uncontestable.

He was attracted to Neji.

It was a dismaying thought, but true for all that. He was attracted. Very much so, it would seem. He could sit here and try to tell himself that it was preposterous (it was) and outrageous (it was that as well) and utterly untenable (the attraction could _not_ be allowed to persist), but he didn't see that he had much say in the matter. Why, just remembering his daily toilet, where Neji dressed and undressed him, put heat in is belly now. His eyes burned in his face. These memories marched across his mind, back and forth, over and over.

It was horrifying, really.

Some time passed, maybe an hour, before something else gradually made its way past his distress: the original memory of Neji staring at his mouth in the alley. In the realization of his attraction, he'd briefly forgotten it. That one moment now seemed to hang suspended in Itachi's mind, before the floodgates opened wide and a torrent of other looks, surreptitious glances he'd never paid any mind to, seemed to leap up and crowd his thoughts.

Neji had looked at him before. Many times. Almost from the moment Itachi had hired him, in fact. Silent stares, mute longing. He hadn't been aware…and yet he had. It was these looks from Neji that had eventually had him noticing the man in turn, sometimes catching those stares. And then there had been a time –was it last Christmas? He thought so- when Neji had been shaving him and he'd realized his servant was rather handsome. Very handsome. After that, the stares had become uncomfortable…and his own thoughts had begun plaguing him.

The knowledge that Neji was attracted to him too took some getting used to, but once it sat easily in his mind, with the equal knowledge of his own attraction, the whole thing took shape for him and he was able to treat it with a measure of detachment.

_Very well, then. Now what do I do with this? I cannot possibly allow Neji to remain here, not with this glaring breach in propriety between us. On the other hand, finding an assistant to match him will be impossible, especially given this current dilemma of Madara on my hands. Neji knows Naruto and the other men around Sasuke personally. He's in a unique position to help me, is loyal to me. I trust him. I could not possibly trust another even half so well. Never. His cousin is making progress with my mother and that is a situation that cannot be upset just now by dismissing Neji, and thereby his cousin. No, as…_

He tried to use the word 'unwelcome' and was shamefully unable to.

_As _untimely_ as this all is, it must be weathered. At least until this matter with Madara has been settled one way or another. Until then, I must be patient. _

However, that didn't mean that he could simply forget. He couldn't. Especially since the longer he sat there, the more definition the shape of his attraction took. It seemed that the realization gained depth and facets the longer it turned around in his mind.

For instance, he realized he'd never felt this way for anyone that he could recall. Not this physical upheaval of his innards, or this heat, or…

Slowly lowering his eyes in consternation, Itachi lifted the top edge of his quilt between thumb and forefinger. Blood was filling his loins, swelling them right there before his widening eyes, and he hadn't felt _that_ since…well, probably since the last time he'd lain with Karin, a night some two years in the past. And he had _never_ reached this level of readiness.

A small gasp left him.

"Sir?"

Neji's sleepy voice floated across the room. Itachi jerked his head up in time to see the man getting to his feet. It seemed that Neji was a very light sleeper, if such a small sound could wake him. He quickly put the quilt down, but Neji was already coming over to the bed. "I'm sorry I woke you. You may return to your-"

"I'm surprised you're still awake, sir. Were you reading all this time?" He reached for the book Itachi held.

Since Itachi was using the book to cover his arousal, he held on to it tightly. When tugging didn't cause him to relinquish it, Neji released it with a small frown. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Quite. Please, return to your blankets."

Neji studied him carefully. "All right. Let me check your bandages first." This time he reached for the edge of the quilt.

"I said I'm fine!" Itachi clutched the quilt, drawing it up to his chest while keeping the book over his groin.

Alarmed now, Neji persisted. "Sir…are you in pain? If the wounds are leaking again…" he pulled at the quilt.

Itachi's fist tightened on the material, but he _was_ weaker than usual. If Neji didn't leave soon, all would be discovered. He'd never live down the shame. "I order you to return your blankets at once. At once, I say! _Unhand_ me!"

Neji only let go because he was truly frightened. Itachi wasn't behaving like himself. He wouldn't even meet Neji's eyes, and his face was very red. "I think you've worsened. Be still, I'm going to fetch my cousin." He turned and was at the door that led to the sitting room before Itachi shouted at him, actually shouted.

"Stop! I _forbid_ you to bring her."

Neji slowly turned from the door and regarded Itachi, nearly trembling with worry now. "If you don't tell me what's wrong, I will. I will override you, sir. Your health comes first, and if you won't let me tend you, then she must be brought. I'm only doing my duty."

The man was right, Itachi thought in disgust. Still, he strove for composure. Gentlemen did not shout, or become so flustered. "It is nothing, I told you."

"Why won't you let me see to your bandages?"

"You've no right to question me."

Studying the way Itachi continued to avoid his gaze, Neji's brow cleared. He finally understood the reason behind the odd behavior and red face. He should have realized it immediately. "I see. I believe I understand now, sir. There's no shame in having an accident in your condition. I should have brought a chamber pot before I turned in, and anticipated that you might not make it to the water closet, weak as you are. I'll go and bring fresh linen and a change of clothes."

Itachi thanked his Maker at seeing Neji leave. During his fear of being caught in such a condition his arousal had faded, but the extra time alone allowed him to compose himself. He hurled the book to the floor and spent some minutes controlling his breathing.

He could not go on like this, not in full awareness of his attraction as he now was. Something would have to be done, but what?

And what of Neji? Was he aware of his own attraction? Of course he was, Itachi chided himself. How could the man _not_ be aware of his own feelings? That had Itachi wondering just how long Neji had harbored such feelings, and this thought in turn led to Sasuke.

That conversation he'd had in September with Sasuke, over dinner, had ended with his brother specifically imploring him not to turn his back on love, should it arrive, no matter what form it took. Sasuke had specifically asked if he was opposed to the idea of loving a man…and it seemed to Itachi now that Neji had been in the room at the time, or had recently been in the room, and that Sasuke had frequently asked about Neji before he'd left to be with Naruto.

So Sasuke had known, then. _That devil. He should have told me._

He could only remain cross for a moment. Sasuke, he further recalled, had experience with this particular situation. He would dearly love to speak to his brother now, to get his advice and opinion. Sasuke knew what it was to have these feelings. Why, he had lain with Naruto, and…

For several moments, the idea of lying with Neji fluttered in Itachi's mind. Right then, as Neji came back into the room, he drew a line in his head and told himself firmly that under no circumstances would that line be crossed. Sasuke had been thrown onto the mercies of fate. His situation had come about and he'd had little choice in the matter. _He_ on the other hand, had every choice and full control of his situation; Neji was _his_ servant, not the captain of a ship he was seeking asylum on. This was _his_ house. He would conduct himself as the master of it, and that was an end to the matter. Attraction or no, there would be no enactment of whatever had gone on between Sasuke and Naruto, in _any_ form. Period. The very idea of him mooning after Neji like some lovesick girl offended him. He was a man. Men did not behave in such a way.

-oOo-

He was utterly still as Neji came and gently pulled back the quilt. He could see that Neji expected to be confronted with soiled nightclothes and bed sheets, and his frown clearly showed his confusion at finding Itachi's clothing dry, but he didn't comment. He couldn't even look at Neji. It was an exercise of his willpower just to endure the ministrations without flinching. He remained silent as his bandages were checked and found in order, and likewise said nothing as Neji tucked him back in and extinguished the lamp.

The touch of Neji's fingers had sent tingles across his skin, and his manhood had stirred. He'd quelled the feelings ruthlessly.

When at last the room was dark save for the dying fires in the hearth, and Neji had withdrawn to his makeshift bed, Itachi turned on his side and tried to sleep. He dreamed of Neji looking at his mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Short chap this time.

**In response to the anonymous reviewer calling themselves 'Really':** As obligated as I may feel to finish something I've started, the truth is that this site is free, you don't pay for anything, therefore I don't owe you or anyone else a motherfucking thing. If that makes me "spiteful and elitist" in your eyes, so be it. I couldn't care less. I think I've behaved with integrity and responsibility in regard to my work and updating it. The second I'm not serving you anymore I become spiteful? Please.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5<span>

New York City shut down for what would later be termed the worst blizzard in the city's history to date. It lasted a record-breaking 9 days, with complete white-out conditions and wind gusts that toppled any pedestrians or wheeled conveyances that happened to be out. These were mainly poor hack drivers, but even they went home and remained there once their horses and carriages were righted. No one else went out. The poorer people starved, with no way to buy food. After, once the blizzard had blown itself out and the toll was calculated, it would be discovered that over 1200 people died in the blizzard of February 1902. It took days to dig both the living and the dead out of their snowed-in homes, but for those nine days the storm raged unabated.

In Uchiha manor conditions were hardly calmer. The atmosphere was almost as frigid. Anyone visiting would have found a stout, unsmiling woman cooking savory soups and wonderfully crusty bread with moist centers in the large kitchen. The rest of the rooms in the large estate were prowled regularly by a now-adequately dressed staff consisting of aged men with sharp eyes. Two women could be found reading in the library more often than not, one of whom seemed to be recuperating nicely from injuries she'd sustained. There was wood and coal to keep whichever room was currently occupied nice and toasty, but it didn't quite cut through the chill of watchfulness Uchiha Manor's residents gave off.

But all of that was later. That first day, the real chill had yet to set in, despite how the wind howled outside.

* * *

><p>The night her son hired those ruffians, Mikoto watched her husband from her place in bed. He sat out in the sitting room for a long time, apparently thinking. Then he came in and seemed to take a sudden interest in his husbandly rights. He was rough and unkind about it, only climbing off of her after he'd used her many times. He did with his manhood what he didn't dare do with his fists, it seemed, and he left her bleeding.<p>

Fugaku had been brisk and forceful in his weekly visits, but never had he tried to hurt her. Mikoto did not complain, though. She merely closed her eyes and waited for it to be over.

-oOo-

On that first day, the next morning, Hinata came to her room early to escort her downstairs.

"_There is an unfortunate lack of females here, I must say," _Hinata said in relation to nothing; she was embroidering, while Mikoto sat reading. _"I have some candidates coming in, but I fear they won't reach us in this weather."_

"_Candidates?"_ Mikoto asked. _"Cleaning and serving women, you mean? That would be lovely. My son has hired a slew of men, but there are some things only a woman can do."_

"_I couldn't agree more."_

"_I do hope you have better taste than he does. Those men he hired last night are the sorriest applicants I have ever seen. Why, if I had any of my friends over for tea, I'd be ashamed for them to be served by those…those…well, they just aren't decent or comely."_

_So she's blind to the truth of the situation, at least to a certain extent, _Hinata thought as she stitched a lotus bloom onto a throw pillow._ Fascinating, these Westerners are. Such a soft race of people. _She always thought of Mikoto as a Westerner. The woman had been raised in this country, after all. She had some hint of Japan in her, and she spoke the language, but she was not Japanese in the slightest. _"The candidates I have chosen are quite presentable, but they do not serve or clean I'm afraid."_

"_What do they do?"_

"_Whatever I tell them to do."_

"_I see."_

She was just as sure that Mikoto didn't see at all. "_You speak of visitors and entertaining. I wasn't aware that your husband had allowed you those pastimes." _

"_Oh, well…he hasn't." _Mikoto frowned at her book.

"_Do you expect him to change his mind?"_

"…_No."_

"_Then it matters not who works in this house, since we will be the only ones to see them. Unless of course, you were thinking of the future?" _She didn't look up, but she saw the uncertain glance Mikoto flicked her way. Hinata held the pillow away from herself, studying it. _"Perhaps you sense change in the wind, new arrangements…"_

Mikoto peeked at her again, before glancing around the deserted library to be sure they were alone. "_Perhaps."_

"_Perhaps. But one can't be sure the change would be good. Change can bring worse conditions…"_

"_Yes, exactly. I…" _Mikoto wet her lips in an unladylike display of nerves, before lowering her voice. She chose her words carefully. _"One must be certain they aren't exchanging a bad situation for a worse one. People might get hurt. People dear to…to one. And if one has lost people close to them already, they must be careful of the ones they have left. They must be careful of their own well-being too."_

"_I understand."_

Mikoto lowered her voice further. _"He is so powerful. His reach is so long."_ She looked at Hinata imploringly, her lip caught between her teeth and her eyes shimmering. _"How can one woman stand against something like that? Against a monster?"_

In Japan, such a slight on her generous offer of help would have been cause for immediate and justified death, Hinata reflected coldly. Here, she opted for silence and kept her head down. Westerners were ignorant. They were too stupid to understand the simple fact that an offer would not have been made unless it could be carried out.

Privately, Hinata thought that Mikoto _should_ die. If the woman had any sense of responsibility, or the slightest shred of honor, she would remove the power Madara held over Itachi and honor her dead husband by killing herself. She should have done so before setting even one foot in the manor. How Mikoto could stand the shame of being so owned by the man who'd tortured her husband was beyond Hinata, but then she wasn't an ignorant, dishonorable Westerner. Nor had her cousin requested Mikoto's demise. He'd asked for quite the opposite. For the moment, it pleased Hinata to see Madara twist in his own shame at being bested by having his wife shielded against his will, but as she sat there stitching another lotus bloom, she entertained the thought of killing Mikoto anyway. Itachi-san was a good man, with much honor. He had taken her in, and he was Neji's love interest. He had no need of a mother who shamed his name in such a flagrant way. Hinata would be doing him a far greater service by removing the stain of dishonor Mikoto had brought.

She would consider it. Perhaps when she tired of toying with Madara, she would dispatch Mikoto and arrange the scene so that Madara took the blame. Itachi-san would be enraged. He would strike at Madara with her cousin and his new helpers. She could kill Madara herself, but it would be more correct for Itachi-san to have that honor. He would avenge his father that way. Either way, Mikoto served no real purpose that she could see.

Mikoto asked her something, and she looked up pleasantly to answer.

* * *

><p>That first morning, while Mikoto and Hinata were in the library, Itachi slept uncommonly late. Neji let him, aware of how trying the previous day had been. In the meantime, he stoked the fire, set out Itachi's clothes, and set the morning pot of tea near the hearth to keep warm, all before Itachi so much as stirred. He wanted to check the bandages as well, but would wait until his employer woke up.<p>

For a few minutes, as the clock downstairs chimed 11 am, Neji stood at one of the lower bedposts and watched Itachi sleep. The man looked troubled, even in slumber. No wonder, what with all the stress Madara had brought. His heart went out to him. _Now that I have him under my care, maybe I can nudge things in the right direction, _he thought.

Tracing the delicate brows and unyielding jaw with his eyes, Neji indulged himself in a little fantasy. In it, Itachi would realize his helplessness and turn to Neji for aid. He would lean on him, begging him to finish Madara. And then afterward, to show his gratitude, Itachi would look up at him with those large black eyes, and implore Neji to initiate him into the wonders of masculine love. Neji, gracious soul that he was, would accept. He'd show Itachi delights undreamed of (by Itachi, anyway. Neji dreamed of them nightly). A little smile played around Neji's lips as he contemplated Itachi's molded mouth. What did such a proper, serious man taste like? He'd only ever had male whores, a species that was extremely hard to come by. He'd kissed one and had been sick for a week afterward with whatever flux that diseased wretch had been carrying. Thereafter he'd been careful where he dipped his wick. There'd been a fine whorehouse in Panama, with quite a few large Jamaican men in it, but that was the last time he'd done anything. That was the same day he'd met Itachi for the first time, come to think. Those Jamaicans had wanted to bugger him, had been fascinated by the length of his hair. He'd ended up doing some scrawny Portuguese, if he recalled correctly.

But Itachi was different. A gentleman in every sense of the word. He smelled clean, spoke in demure tones, and had pleasing mannerisms. He was like Sasuke…but aged. Mature. More…something. Reserved, that was the word. Itachi was more reserved, less inquisitive than his younger brother. And definitely more commanding. His fantasy would never play out the way he envisioned, even if Itachi was attracted to men, which he emphatically was not. But the thought of dominating such a superior man brought his cock slowly to full attention. Breathless, he continued to stare at Itachi, imagining him naked, while he pressed his crotch against the wooden bedpost.

-oOo-

Itachi happened to open his eyes at that moment. He blinked at the light streaming in through the frosted window, then turned quickly, as if searching for something. He saw Neji standing by his bed. "What are you doing?" he asked, immediately suspicious.

"Nothing, sir. Waiting for you to rise." Neji gave a small smile.

"You were watching me sleep, you mean." He saw the way Neji frowned at the tone of his voice but did not temper it. "Have you nothing better to do?"

"At the moment, no. We're snowed in. I can't tend to your business affairs, or go to the office, or even to my rooms above the carriage house. The men are stationed throughout the manor, so Madara is being watched. Hinata is sitting with your mother in the library. What would you have me do?"

There was a hint of bite in Neji's tone as well, Itachi noticed. So the man took offense at being upbraided? That was no excuse for failing to address him as sir. And come to think of it, Neji had no right taking offense. "I would have you do anything but watch me sleep. It's improper."

"Fine. May I check your bandages? _Sir_?" he added when he saw Itachi's face tighten. He was immediately contrite. Itachi had every right to be testy, all things considered. He softened his voice. "There's tea and raspberry scones for your breakfast. I also asked cook to send up some milk and brandy, warmed."

That sounded appetizing. Itachi felt his anger cool a bit as he pushed himself upright. Neji was gentle and thorough as he cleaned and dressed his wounds, but he couldn't keep from flinching whenever the man's fingers touched his skin.

He had come to the conclusion that last night he'd been under the effects of a stressful day. There was nothing between him and Neji. Thinking the man handsome did not signify an attraction on his part, and Neji…well, even if Neji harbored an attraction of his own, he had not acted upon it. There was no reason whatsoever for anything to change.

Nothing except one little detail: Neji could not continue to act as his manservant. He'd only accepted the man as such because he'd had no choice, but now he could have one of the other men tend to him, if he wished. Neji was his assistant, a position considerably loftier than that of valet. One could not be gentleman and servant at the same time. Why he had agreed to let Neji be both, Itachi couldn't say. It had been a moment of weakness, he supposed, but no more. Neji could remain as his assistant. And truth be told, he did not strictly _need_ a manservant. He preferred one, but he could just as easily tend to himself.

There, in the bright and bolstering sunlight of his room, Itachi told himself that this decision had nothing to do with last night's erroneous conclusions of an attraction, since in fact there _was_ no attraction. At least not from his side. He would inform Neji just as soon as he'd had his morning tea.

But he delayed that chore. "I would like to leave this bed," he said when Neji had draped him in his dressing gown. "I'm certain I'm well enough to do so."

"Sir, Hinata advised you to keep activity to a minimum. You're supposed to remain in bed."

"I'm fine. I will just go to that chair by the hearth." He was pleased to see that Neji didn't argue with him further. He did try to help him from the bed, but Itachi waved him away impatiently, and made it across the room to the small sitting area in front of the fire without incident. He felt much improved over yesterday.

-oOo-

A gust of wind seemed to make the entire house creak. The panes in the window rattled loudly. Itachi looked up as he was sampling a tea-soaked scone. "The weather is bad."

"Yes."

"Looks as though we might be in for quite a few days. I remember conditions similar to this. I was a boy, maybe 8 years. The blizzard lasted three days, but it was another five before we made it to the city. Father had us ration our food."

Neji frowned. "I hadn't thought of that. Should we do the same?"

Itachi dipped another scone, this time in the milk and brandy, as he thought. "I think that's best. We won't be receiving milk and egg deliveries, after all, and we won't be able to head out for fresh meat or produce. It must be assumed that the horses will die if this storm lasts longer than what feed they have. No one can go out in that madness, not even to the stables. How much feed do they have?"

Neji thought a moment. "I believe two day's worth. I gave them extra after I brought you home yesterday because I saw the storm coming."

"They may try to escape once hunger begins to drive them, at which point they'll die even quicker. That might be a blessing for them, but worse for us. When this storm blows out, we'll be left without transportation. Tell cook to ration what food we have left." He sipped his milk a moment before deliberately adding, "And see that no one unnecessary is fed."

The smirk that graced Neji's lips was predatory, and most unbecoming of a gentleman. Itachi didn't notice. "As you command, sir. What else?"

"Fuel. Wood and coal. We'll be burning extra to combat this cold and to cook with, so see that only the minimum is used. We shall compensate with added clothing." He set his cup down in its saucer. "What progress has your cousin made with my mother?"

"I believe significant progress. Why?"

"Because I don't want fuel wasted on that massive suite above me. Yet my mother sleeps there."

Choosing his words carefully, Neji said, "May I ask why these…plans?"

"Simple. I have reached the end of my patience. I believe this storm is providential. It will allow me to make this place as inhospitable as possible."

"I see. In that case, I can tell my cousin to accelerate her persuasion? Your mother could be free of Madara within the hour."

"Without any harm to Madara?"

"If he doesn't approach my cousin or try to stop her, yes."

"See it done."

"At once."

"Excellent. Once it is, see that the suite is made inaccessible, preferably while Madara is outside of it. I don't care how you accomplish this. Above all, you are not to approach Madara directly. No one is. Let him exist in solitude, while events happen around him. Deprived of food, warmth, and shelter, we will see how long he lasts."

"It will be done. What else, sir?" He had to curb his excitement. This would be an eventful day.

"Candles. Oil lamps. Gather all we possess. Unless I'm mistaken, the electricity will go out. And see about gathering clean snow for water. We'll miss that long before we miss food, should the situation become desperate."

"I believe there are several crates of candles in the cellar."

"Good. Incidentally, Yamanaka gave me some disturbing news yesterday. I don't believe I told you." He outlined the situation regarding Ino and her mother, and the part Inoichi hoped Sasuke would play.

"That sounds dangerous. To do that, Sasuke would need to know what's going on here. How would he react, sir?"

Again, Itachi took the time to think. "He'd be worried for my safety, but I believe he'd do as I bid him. Provided he didn't know of my attacks, in which case he'd aid his brother instead of some chit. Sasuke's unpredictable sometimes. What of Naruto? Would he do it?"

It was Neji's turn to ponder. "I don't think so. It would mean taking his attention off Sasuke, and he won't do that for some hag- your pardon, sir- some woman he doesn't know."

"Well, he's at least seen Ino. She was standing with Sasuke during that memorable scene at our Christmas gala, don't you recall? Ah, that's right you were with the other servants. Well, it was as good as an introduction, seeing as how she fainted at the sight of him." He shook his head at the memory.

"If I know Naruto, he won't remember. Even if he did, he wouldn't put Sasuke at risk."

"Then Ino and her mother are stuck, it seems. Still...if we could pull off a rescue, I could take Inoichi in here, under my protection, and find out what he knows or has that Madara wants so badly. Is there no one else that can be sent?"

"No one comes to mind. No one I trust…and there's no way to get word to them if there was, not in this weather. No, wait..." Neji's brows came together. "There _is_ one person. He and his brother might help us, but I haven't seen them in years."

Itachi sighed. "It is a worrisome coil. Even so, one must think logically. We need Madara's leverage transferred to us. To do that, I must have Inoichi's knowledge, and to have it, his daughter and wife must be freed. And Naruto is the only one who can do so. Now that I reflect upon it, Sasuke might be impulsive, but when serious business is at hand I have never known him to make a mistake. It occurs to me that two minds working against Madara are better than one, and having Sasuke heedful of his safety is better than having only Naruto. I have decided to tell him of the situation here, and send him with Naruto to retrieve the Yamanaka family. Strategy, Neji. It is everything when force is inadvisable."

Neji nodded at this sage advice. "I'll draft a telegram to be sent as soon as the storm abates."

"Very good." Itachi took a deep breath. "Neji, there is one other matter to be discussed. I'm afraid I must ask you to step down as my manservant."

The satisfied smile he'd been wearing fell away completely. "What! Sir, _why_? Have I done something?"

"No. I simply cannot continue to dishonor you by having you perform two separate, vastly divergent tasks. You are my assistant, and you shall remain as such. You may stand guard in my room until I am well, but I will tend to myself henceforth. Hinata can see to my wounds until I'm healed."

Neji was silent, looking at him with an expression of hurt and confusion. Secretly, Itachi felt a wrench himself. The idea of not having Neji around him, dressing him, brushing his hair, was a curiously painful one. He tightened his jaw against the feeling and lifted his chin. "Is this clear?"

"Yes, sir. Sir? Are you sure I haven't-"

"I have spoken, Neji."

"Yes, but-"

"The matter is not up for discussion."

"But why-"

"Because I cannot abide your proximity any longer," Itachi bit out. The look on Neji's face, and his refusal to just accept the new arrangement, made him speak more harshly than he'd intended to. It was a pained expression, one that reminded Itachi of why he was doing this. Any attraction from any quarter must be nipped sharply in the bud, and this was the way.

Neji hung his head. There was a strained silence between them, wherein Itachi was so pained in turn by the sight of Neji's hurt, that he was brought to the brink of rescinding his command.

For those few moments after Itachi's pronouncement, Neji tried to recall if he'd ever been hurt like this. No, he couldn't say that he had. He'd never been in love, and so had never been rejected. It didn't matter that Itachi had never accepted him, did not even know of his feelings…he'd said he couldn't abide Neji's presence too closely. He didn't even want his wounds tended to by him. Granted, those manservant duties had been tortuous, but he'd still looked forward to them. Now he would have no contact with Itachi at all. The man could say what he wanted, but he, Neji, _must_ have done something wrong. There was no other explanation.

It suddenly hit him just how impossible his situation was. Here he was mooning after the lord of the manor and entertaining stupid fantasies, when the reality was that he'd never be anything but less than equal in Itachi's eyes. That was the way it had been for a year, and that was how it would continue to be, obviously.

He should have taken Naruto up on his offer of his old job.

Well, it was too late for that now. He was here, and he'd been given explicit instructions. If the man couldn't stand his presence, then he would make himself as scarce as possible, while still seeing about his safety.

When Neji lifted his head, a cool-eyed man of impeccable deportment stood looking at Itachi. He bowed stiffly and very correctly, took Itachi's breakfast tray, and murmured, "As you wish. I will see to your other commands posthaste and inform you of when they've been completed."

-oOo-

The quiet sound of his bedroom door closing behind Neji left Itachi feeling inexplicably hollow and uncertain. In hindsight, Neji was entirely too loyal and too faithful to be treated with such disregard. _Why did I do that? _Maybe he should have thought his decision over a bit more. No, that was nonsense. Since when does a man feel regret for giving legitimate orders? No proper man would. His choice was the correct one. He was sorry to hurt Neji, but the man would get over it.

But he kept seeing the way Neji had hung his head. Itachi looked around the side of the wingback chair at the closed door. _Had_ he done the right thing?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Neji left Itachi's rooms and went directly to the kitchen. Chouza's wife, whom everyone simply called Cook, sat dicing vegetables while beside her that evening's beef sat marinating. He gave the orders regarding rations and who was and wasn't to be fed, before leaving her and rounding up the men. There was a brief discussion, where it was decided that Gai, as the most adventurous of the group, would be the one to venture onto the roof. He took a length of rope he found in the cellar, bundled himself up securely, and left by way of the servants' entrance. It took Shibi and Shikaku leaning on the door to close it again, the wind was so bad.

-oOo-

Only long years of training in disciplinary arts kept Madara from jumping when that large Akimichi entered his suite without knocking. "What is the meaning of this?" he hissed.

"Lunch is served, sir." Chouza said nothing else.

Madara thought he would rather die before showing any of the relief that washed through him. He knew as well as everyone else that the men Itachi had hired were not servants. That one was here now, apparently behaving as one, was a shock. He'd expected an attack. It was inexcusable how nervous he was becoming, but he'd never been completely alone whilst in enemy territory; he'd always had guards or some other form of protection. What had possessed him to walk into this manor with only that bitch, Mikoto? Gods, the killing of Fugaku had made him cocky.

Carefully setting his book on an end table to mask the slight tremor in his hand, Madara stood and buttoned his jacket. He used the action to secretly check that his blade was easily accessible. "About time. Tell my wife to join me. And have more wood brought, these rooms are like ice."

Chouza, who had no intention of doing any such thing, inclined his head as Madara passed him. When the third floor was empty but for him, he quickly shut the door and went to the sitting room's window. The wind tore it from his grasp when he opened it, but a frozen and snow-crusted Gai was already clambering inside, dragging the rope in behind himself. They quickly set to work.

-oOo-

Neji appeared in the library's doorway, caught Hinata's eye, and said, _"He's given the order. Do it."_

Mikoto was about to ask what all that was about, but Hinata set her needlepoint aside and stood up. She held out her hand. _"Mikoto-san, will you please come with me?"_

"_Oh...a-all right. Is something wrong? Where are we going?" _

Hinata looked at Neji as she tucked Mikoto's good hand into the crook of her arm. _"Dining room," _he said in answer to the unasked question.

-oOo-

Madara stood looking at the empty dining room table, and felt himself go red with fury, a fury he kept to himself. Without turning, he sensed rather than heard several people enter the room behind him. He turned to meet the threat head on.

He saw the Akimichi and the Nara standing to either side of the door, where the Hyuuga woman was in the process of gliding in with Mikoto on her arm. His wife's presence suggested that this was no attack, then, which left him briefly confused. The Hyuuga enlightened him.

"_Uchiha Mikoto will no longer be sharing a room with you," _she stated in her melodious murmur. Mikoto gasped, her eyes widening in fright. _"She is now mine," _Hinata went on_. "My responsibility, my companion, and under my protection. I trust you will have no objections?"_

Madara stared at her. He'd had his suspicions, but if he'd been in the slightest doubt regarding who and what Hinata was, that was now laid to rest. To speak and act so boldly, to his very face, all but confirmed to him that he'd been right to keep his distance. _"What need would I have for an honor-less, face-less dog such that?" _he said._ "Take her, if you prefer used chattel. She was merely a sheathe for my sword, and not a very good one. I can always find another."_

Hinata turned without bowing and left, Mikoto in tow.

Madara held on to his blank expression as he contemplated the wisdom of killing the Akimichi here and now. He'd been made a fool of. He met the man's eyes, weighing the pros and cons.

No. As tempting as the idea was, there were simply too many people who could come to the Akimichi's aid, or else attack him in turn, even if he managed to succeed. He waited until both men left after the Hyuuga to make his way back to his suite.

The door wouldn't open. No matter how hard he leaned on it, it wouldn't budge. The lock seemed to be unmolested, since his key entered and turned in it just fine. Madara stood back from it and looked up and down the hall. There was no one but himself. What-?

Ah.

He'd been lured from the room so that it could be tampered with. At the same time he'd been discreetly informed, via the empty dining room table, that he would no longer be fed. To top it off, Mikoto was now untouchable. He had been systematically robbed of everything. They were small things compared to the vast wealth of men and riches he had at his disposal, to be sure. It was only food, his wife, and his room, but here in the manor, where he was cut off from everything else, it was a substantial loss. He had now lost so much face that were he not bent on retrieving his legacy, and were he a lesser man, he would commit _seppuku_. To be outwitted by a woman, an invalid, and a gaggle of low-class swine…

They would pay. They would all pay.

* * *

><p>Mikoto looked around the guest rooms in wonder, before turning to stare at Hinata. <em>"My things are already in here."<em>

"_Yes. You will share this room with me from now on."_

"_Madara…my husband will have vengeance for this. Oh, I mustn't stay, you have no idea how you've angered him-" _Her eyes went very wide and her words died in her throat as Hinata suddenly advanced on her. The look on her face could only be described as the intent to harm.

"_Listen to me, Mikoto-san, and hear me well. Madara has tolerated your stupidity, but I will not. If you spent less time dishonoring yourself and your son, you would realize the simple truth of the matter, which is this: Madara does not give in to anyone unless they are more powerful than he is. I happen to respect your son. He, at least, has honor, and after this coup his face will be huge. I do him the favor of keeping his mother safe for his sake and his sake alone, but mind me when I say that I am neither as patient nor as lenient as Madara. Anger me, or insult me again by implying that I am incapable of anything and I will send you Onward. Do you understand me, Mikoto-san?"_

Mikoto, face white, nodded quickly.

Hinata's face transformed at once from its cold intent to the pleasant, smiling visage of polite interest Mikoto was accustomed to seeing. _"I will tell Cook to make green tea for us. Would you like fresh mint with yours, Mikoto-san?"_

Again, Mikoto nodded. Hinata gave her a small bow, tucked her hands into her wide sleeves, and left without further comment. When she was alone, Mikoto groped behind her for the chaise lounge and slowly sank onto it.

_My God_, she thought. _My God_.

Had she thought that Madara terrified her? She had not known true terror. Fear, yes. She realized now that she'd feared Madara excessively, just as she now realized that there was a difference between fear and terror. She had watched Madara torture her husband for months on end. Had endured torture herself at his hands. And yet the man who'd done those things, who'd coolly killed Fugaku, and just as casually threatened the lives of her children, that man was afraid of Hinata. So much so that he'd let her be taken from him without protest.

What could make a man like Madara fear Hinata? Who _was _Hinata?

Someone more powerful than Madara. Mikoto had an idea that Hinata's assertion was accurate. She _was_ more powerful than Madara. Knowing the circles her previous husband had moved in, and the circles Madara moved in, that power might not necessarily be physical. Although…Hinata had to be a physical threat to some degree as well; Madara hadn't even approached Hinata.

Hyuuga. They were an influential family in Japan, as far as she knew, but that was all. Fugaku had been involved in some dark things, Mikoto recalled. So was Madara. Death, opium, shady business dealings…Hinata had to be a part of that dark underworld if Madara knew enough about her to be afraid.

And this was the person her son had sent to protect her. Hinata had said she'd kill Mikoto for displaying stupidity or angering her. She believed it. Hinata's anger had not contorted her face, but those pale eyes had glittered with intent, and that had somehow been more frightening than if the woman had screamed or shouted. She shuddered.

Hinata was an exceedingly dangerous woman, Mikoto concluded. Dangerous enough to call Madara's brutality lenience and patience. A shudder worked through her.

She folded her shaking hands in her lap and tried to come to some kind of terms. That she found herself under yet someone else's control did not bother her so much; she'd been in one person's control or another her entire life. The trick was to recognize the boundaries at once and operate within them. As much as she feared Hinata (now that she saw her for what she was at last), she was also the only person to show her real kindness. She didn't believe Hinata would strike her the way Madara had done, or torture her. The woman was deadly, but somehow refined about it. That was more terrifying when she thought about it, but Mikoto took heart. A refined person was a reasonable person.

And if Hinata was as dangerous as Mikoto now believed, perhaps she could be persuaded to send _Madara_ Onward.

* * *

><p>Itachi spent the afternoon quietly recuperating and trying to read. He wasn't trying very hard, seeing as he hadn't turned the page in over an hour. His eyes kept wandering to the window, where snow blew about in a frenzy.<p>

Neji had looked rather upset when he left.

Servants had no right being upset when commanded by their masters, but it had been established that Neji was now his assistant only. He was still a servant, just not a low one. Itachi had been perfectly within his rights.

_Why does the idea of hurting him hurt _me_?_

The knock on his door early that evening made his pulse quicken. He would tell Neji that he'd been wrong, and that-

It was one of the other men. Shibi, he thought the man was called. He came in wheeling a cart of food. Itachi knew a moment of bitter disappointment, before Shibi was straightening up and introducing himself.

"Neji thinks I will perform the valet duties to your satisfaction," he finished by saying.

Itachi nodded. He was served correctly, and later, once he'd eaten, he was undressed and readied for bed properly. He could find no fault with anything. Shibi was a silent, attentive man, who performed each task with economy of movement, decorum, and precision. "Neji taught you well," he said as he got in bed.

Shibi dipped his head in acknowledgement.

"Will…will Neji be coming in later?" He felt his face heat at needing an answer to that.

"I don't think so. He instructed me to inform you that everything you discussed with him has been carried out. Your mother is safe with Hinata, and Cook has been apprised of who eats and who doesn't. The master suite had been blocked from the inside. No one can get in. Regarding the fuel, Neji said-"

As if on cue, the electricity chose that moment to go out. The low embers in the fireplace did not shed light far beyond the hearth. Itachi heard Shibi moving around in the dark, then saw his shadow over by the fireplace. A moment later two candles were lit. He came back to the bed, set one on the nightstand, and resumed speaking as if nothing had happened.

"There are candles enough to last a month, Neji said. And oil for lamps. We had a coal delivery shortly before the storm, but the wood will run out by the end of the week. We have flour and rice enough to last a few weeks, meat for another week, and produce for some days. Cook says we can eat comfortably for ten days, after that, the portions will be smaller."

"I see," Itachi said. "And where is Madara?"

"No one has seen him in any of the rooms of the house. Neji thinks he might be in the attic, but no one has gone up there to verify."

"Hm. I do wonder how long he can remain up there without food. Would he attack Cook?"

"Chouza has taken to hanging around the kitchen. He and Cook will sleep there at night."

"Very well. Stay alert, all of you. Madara will only be more dangerous from now on. Keep me informed, Shibi. And wake me at ten tomorrow morning."

Shibi bowed. "Hinata will be in to dress your wounds, and I will stand guard in your sitting room tonight."

Itachi watched him leave and tried to ignore the ache in his chest. He was being absurd. It was understandable that being served by someone other than the one he was used to would take some adjusting to, but feeling so stricken just because Neji wouldn't be guarding him was carrying things too far. He firmly told himself that the ache he felt was due to his wounds, and had Hinata give him something to help him sleep when she came. He didn't want any wayward dreams tonight.

* * *

><p>Over the course of the next three days, the chill in Uchiha manor slowly reached a peak.<p>

Mikoto was watched closely by Hinata once she'd informed the older woman that her husband was no longer being fed or sheltered, but Mikoto made no comment. She sat looking up at Hinata attentively.

"_I don't need to mention how ill-advised it would be to try and sneak food to someone your son had deemed unworthy of a single grain of rice, do I?"_

"_No," _Mikoto said.

"_That's very well. And you, Mikoto-san? Are you finding this arrangement satisfactory?"_

She had been fearful that first day with Hinata, but most of her fears had been laid to rest. Hinata made known what would and wouldn't upset her and what she expected of Mikoto in subtle yet unmistakable ways: She was not to mention Madara. And she was to be respectful and mindful of Hinata's authority at all times. These were simple things for her to do, and she did them gladly. Hinata had come back that first day with the tea and spoken while she poured.

"_It is understandable that your sons' safety be on your mind. Rest easy in the knowledge that they are protected. I say so, and I am not often wrong. As you are under my protection now, it would be better for you if you trust me. Things will go smoother that way."_

"_Yes, Hinata-san. I do."_

And she did. It was a strange and liberating thing to trust a woman so completely, but her fear of Hinata helped her accomplish it. So long as she adhered to the younger woman's few rules, life was good for Mikoto. Better than it had been in over a year. She was pampered, and treated gently and kindly.

But she never forgot Hinata's warning. And though she was happy and safe and comfortable, she was also very watchful of Hinata, and aware that she was being watched in turn; she might trust the Hyuuga to keep her safe, but she was not trusted in turn. This was a fact that kept her slightly on edge, but it was a small price to pace for the improvement of her circumstances.

-oOo-

Chouza and his wife were vigilant. He remained in the kitchen's general vicinity, and his wife never left it. On the second night, a noise had woken them, but a quick check of the larder showed nothing amiss.

Gai and Shikaku canvassed the many rooms regularly, checking to see that nothing was out of place or otherwise showing evidence of meddling. They never saw anyone or anything untoward. The longer things progressed in that great silent house without incident, the tighter their nerves were drawn.

Shibi tended to Itachi and reported these events. "And Neji?" Itachi asked as Shibi stood brushing his hair. "You haven't mentioned him."

"He patrols the rooms with the others, and makes sure Cook is safe when Chouza relieves them."

"I see."

He had not seen or heard from Neji since telling him to step down as his manservant. It was clear that he was avoiding Itachi, and the knowledge did not sit well with him, not at all.

* * *

><p>Hinata pronounced him well enough to move about on the morning of the fourth day. He vowed to inspect his house himself to see what was what.<p>

The manor was dark. Not much light found its way through the snow-covered glass of the windows, and the electricity was still out. Oil lamps and candles were only in use in occupied rooms, which were very few. He found Cook in the kitchens, as reported, and her large formidable husband in the hall outside it. Shibi, Gai, and Shikaku were elsewhere in the house. He'd passed them as he made his rounds.

His mother and Hinata were in the parlor this morning, not the library. She looked so serene, so untroubled, that his face broke into the first smile he'd worn in days. "Mother…you look lovely this morning."

Mikoto looked up from her book with a smile of her own. "Might I return the compliment?" she said. "You look recovered."

"I am, for the most part. Hinata is better than the most experienced physician."

Hinata did not look up from her own book, but she inclined her head in a small bow of acknowledgement.

"Are you well, mother?"

Mikoto, ever mindful of Hinata and how the woman was listening to her every word, nevertheless told the truth. "I don't believe I've ever been so content. Not since your father…"

"I'm glad to hear it. Mother, I must say it…there can be no return to Madara. I will see about Yamanaka terminating your marriage to him as soon as this storm abates."

Mikoto saw the tiny movement of Hinata's eyes in her direction, but again spoke truthfully. "Of course, son. I have no objections. I was only concerned for your safety, yours and Sasuke's."

"In future, you must trust that I can see to myself. Putting yourself in Madara's hands put me at a distinct disadvantage, Mother. I must know where your loyalties lie." Because no matter that she looked docile now, he would never forget that his mother was a fickle creature and highly unpredictable.

"With you, of course! How can you _ask_?"

The dismay on her face was a little too contrived to suit Itachi, but he held her gaze and decided that whether or not she truly was loyal to him, she was most definitely against Madara. That would do for now.

He hadn't missed his mother's awareness of Hinata. Hinata seemed to have his mother's entire focus, and that was good. He stared at her elaborately styled bent head and tried to picture her as some kind of samurai. He just couldn't see it. But she had taken his mother from Madara's clutches, and for that he would be infinitely grateful.

Turning so that he faced Hinata directly, Itachi bowed low to her from the waist. _"You have the eternal honor and gratitude of the Uchiha for your kindness and assistance during this time, Hinata-san. I have peace of mind knowing my mother will continue to be in your excellent care. I trust your judgment."_

Hinata received this monumental honor with her head still lowered, as was correct, but she stood and returned the bow to an equal depth. _"I am most pleased my humble abilities were of service." And very happy to see that you're aware of your mother's weak nature, _she thought as Itachi straightened and left the parlor. He had essentially asked her to keep his mother in her care and under her supervision.

Really, Itachi-san was too good a man to have such a disgraceful mother, Hinata thought. She would wait to see how this little _shogi _game between him and Madara played out before making a final decision regarding Mikoto's existence.

* * *

><p>It seemed that no matter what room he looked into, Itachi could not find Neji. When asked, the other men either said that he'd just missed him or that Neji was checking to make sure all the windows were fastened tightly and the drapes drawn securely shut. Or he was checking the candle supply, or the food supply, or any number of things. He wouldn't believe that the men were lying to him. Likely Neji really was doing those things, but he was also making very sure that he did not run into Itachi. It was a fact that made the manor seem twenty degrees colder.<p>

As he returned to his room to dine on his midday meal, Itachi considered just summoning the man. But what would he say to him? What reason could he give for sending for him? He actually spent several long minutes in contemplation of plausible reasons before he caught himself. He stared at where hard flecks of hail and snow were ticking against his sitting room window.

_I miss him._

That admission gave him no relief. He sat there after his meal had been cleared away, and deliberated the truth of it. He missed Neji. And though he tried very hard to tell himself that he only missed Neji's excellent service, he could not continue to lie to himself. He missed the sight of Neji, his face. His voice, the way his hair moved, and how Neji smelled. Just calling up these physical attributes made his body tense…and then he needed to cross his legs.

That was perhaps the most disturbing thing of all, how his body was reacting to Neji's absence. One would think that now the provocation was removed, his body would behave properly once more, but no. If anything, his affliction was worse. Sometimes when he thought of Neji now, his heart would beat twice as hard as it should, and a knot of discomfort would settle in his gut. Make that _every_ time he thought of Neji. And he thought of him whenever he wasn't thinking of Madara.

With a quiet capitulation that he would take to his grave, Itachi ruefully admitted to himself that he _was_ attracted to Neji.

He let that thought sit unobstructed within him as dusk approached. He missed Neji and was attracted to him.

Yes.

All right.

Now what?

This seemed to be of paramount importance. What was supposed to _happen_ now? He was almost certain that Neji felt the same. Dwelling on the man as he had been, he'd replayed all of the interactions he could remember them sharing and an attraction seemed obvious. It made the way he'd dismissed Neji all the more painful, and the consideration Neji had shown in not acting on the attraction more obvious.

Of course, if Neji were female Itachi would even now be speaking to his father to ask permission to court him. That idea was so ludicrous that a startled chuckle escaped him. No, he couldn't court Neji. For one thing, courtship existed so that two people could enter into marriage. Marriage to Neji was out of the question. But assuming he did do… something, not courtship, but _something_…to what end would he be doing it? What did he _want_?

He tried to imagine what two men laying together would be like, but all he could come up with was an image of himself and Neji lying side by side on his bed, in their dressing gowns. He wasn't at all sure if he wanted that. He and Karin had conducted their business in the dark, with their nightclothes on. It had been over and done with quickly and silently. He couldn't quite imagine doing anything remotely like that with Neji, and did not see where all the pleasure Sasuke had spoken of could come from. He'd experienced the small pleasure of release with Karin, nothing more.

No, lying with Neji did not seem to be what he wanted. It finally occurred to him that he had no idea what men did when they engaged in sodomy. He had a vague idea that certain orifices were…visited… but that idea was so repugnant that he immediately classified it as a flat impossibility. No sane person could possibly behave in such a manner. It was more likely that men exchanged caresses…kissing and such.

A memory from his youth surfaced…there had been a period of time when he'd reached his early teens, that he'd had certain dreams. Sometimes he would stroke his appendage to have a release. His father had said the dreams were normal for a boy and meant he was healthy. He had not thought anything of it after that. Once he'd grown more mature, he'd likewise stopped touching himself. He thought now that maybe men did what he'd done then, and stroked each other. That seemed plausible, but did not fit with the things he'd read in the book. How did simple stroking, something over and done in five minutes' time, allow one to reach the heavens in ecstasy? He distinctly remembered reading that phrase. And Sasuke had said he'd died of the pleasure Naruto gave him.

Itachi gave himself a mental shake. It didn't matter what men did with each other, because he had no intention of becoming Neji's lover. He missed the man and admitted that he was attracted. That was a far cry from sodomy.

He suddenly wished that Sasuke was with him. He could do with some advice. Remembering that Neji planned to send a telegram as soon as the weather permitted, he thought it would be a good idea to write Sasuke and give him the details of the situation himself…as well as ask his advice.

With something concrete to do, Itachi felt more at ease. He got up at last and took up one of the candles. There was paper and ink downstairs in his den. He would have Shibi bring him brandy there and begin his letter at once. Hopefully it would be done in time for him to eat dinner. Perhaps he would dine with his mother.

* * *

><p>The second floor hall in his wing of the manor was deserted and pitch black. His one candle made a very small circle of light, a single island of visibility in a sea of darkness. He stood for a moment outside his door, listening; he had the disturbing feeling that eyes were watching him from beyond his circle of light.<p>

"Shibi?"

There was no answer. Shibi was likely seeing to patrol duties until such time as he was called upon to serve Itachi and stand guard during the night.

Even so, he was alert. The pistol he carried on his person was soon in his hand and cocked for use. He held the candle high in his other hand and slowly made his way toward the stairs, listening hard after each step.

The wind seemed louder in his heightened state of caution. Every creak and groan of the house was amplified, until it seemed that an orchestra of ominous sound followed his creeping progress. His nerves felt drawn to the breaking point, he was so on edge. Next he'd be seeing threats in every shadow, he admonished himself. _Control yourself._

He thought he heard something behind him as he was rounding the corner of the hall, but when he looked he could see nothing. Granted, he couldn't see anything beyond the small area his candle illuminated, but after staring hard, he concluded that he was still alone.

He heard the noise again just as he was reaching the stairs and stopped to listen hard. Nothing.

He looked left along the hall. Nothing.

Right along the opposite side. Nothing.

Left again, and he saw Madara's gaunt face, eyes sunken into his head, and hair standing up wildly. Itachi had time to register bared teeth and a raised blade. A wild spike of adrenaline that slammed through him before he threw the candle and steadied his pistol with both hands.

The candle struck Madara's face and went out at the same time that the pistol went off. There was a brief flash, a grunt of pain, and then Madara was crashing into him and bearing him to the floor. Itachi heard shouting from someplace downstairs, but the thought was a fleeting one.

Fists like granite landed with terrible force on his healing wounds, making his body flare up in pain, but Itachi was focused as he'd never been. The anger and resentment, and not a little fear that he'd been feeling, made him roll away and lash out with his own fists. He grappled with Madara, feeling his nails remove skin even as his hair was torn from his scalp. Rank breath filled his nose before he felt a set of teeth sink into the meat of his neck. He brought the edge of his hand down once, twice, and again on the back of Madara's neck, and was rewarded with Madara releasing him briefly. He didn't stop, throwing himself toward the sound of Madara's ragged breathing.

Gone were his father's teachings in the family art of self-defense. Were he standing, facing his enemy properly he might have used them. Here, on the floor, in the dark, fighting through pain and a crippling rage the likes of which he'd never experienced, He and Madara were reduced to growling and scrabbling at each other like beasts. His hand slipped in warm wetness on Madara's side and he heard a gasp of pain. _I shot him, _he thought savagely, and dug his thumb into the hot, tiny hole he found in the flesh, dug and dug until his thumbnail scraped the bullet itself and he shoved it in deeper with a meaty squelch that sickened him.

Madara stiffened and roared.

He'd say they were evenly matched; Madara was weakened from lack of nourishment, and he himself was still recuperating from multiple stab wounds. They continued to wrestle on the floor for what seemed like an eternity before light and thundering footsteps made Madara throw an elbow into his face. Briefly blinded, Itachi fell to his knees as several people ran up. By the light they brought with them, he was in time to see Madara lurching down the hall. "Do not let him get away," he shouted. He was past all endurance now. "Kill him! Find him and _kill_ _him_!"

He saw Shikaku and Gai running in the direction Madara had gone, felt Shibi bending to him, heard someone ask to see his face, but there was a scream. A loud scream, followed by a shot, and then Itachi was shoved aside as Chouza, whom he hadn't noticed, barged past him and leapt half the stairs in a single jump. He was gone a moment later, then the whole house could hear his agonized howl.

"No," Itachi breathed. He was on his feet and running down the stairs with someone else on his heels, probably Shibi, only to arrive in the kitchen with everyone else and see Chouza bent over the body of his wife. There was a neat hole between her staring eyes.

Itachi left them to run to the guest rooms. When he charged through the door he found his mother sitting with her hands clamped to her mouth in terror and Hinata standing before her with two fans unfolded, one in each of her hands. The fans were closedd and tucked away with a faint metallic _snick_ before Itachi could blink. _"Let no one in here unless it is me," _he said as he turned to rush out again. _"It's Madara, and he has my pistol."_

Hinata nodded.

Back in the kitchen, he found Chouza alone with his wife. He went and stood beside him, but did not know what to say. The remorse and guilt he felt were nearly insupportable. "Chouza…I cannot express the depth of my sorrow, or the severity of my shame," he said painfully. "I-"

Shibi, Gai, and Shikaku came back then. "He's gone," Gai panted. His face was red and his hair was full of snow. "He left by the back door. Took food with him. I tried to chase him but it's black out there, and the wind is kicking up drifts of snow taller than I am."

"Have you searched the house?" Neji said.

Itachi turned at hearing his voice and noticed for the first time that Neji was standing directly behind him. He realized with a jolt that Neji was the one who'd asked to see his face upstairs, the one who'd followed him down the stairs…and that he probably hadn't left his side since. "Neji…"

Neji stepped away from him.

"We did search," Shikaku said. "Nothing. Shibi went into the attic and found where Madara had holed up. There's shit and- " his eyes slid to Itachi at the use of this language. "There's a mess."

"Stand guard down here, all of you," Neji said. "I'll see to Chouza's wife." He left the kitchen.

Itachi felt as if something inside him left with Neji, but he clenched his jaw to keep from calling to him again. A few minutes later, Hinata came and went with him to his room, where she pronounced his nose intact, and the rest of him merely bruised.

"Send your cousin to me as soon as he's seen to Cook," he said when she was done. "I would speak with him." Enough was enough.

* * *

><p>There was no rejoicing at Madara's departure as the hours dragged toward midnight. Shibi came and asked if he wanted food, but he declined. He was riddled with guilt, and too tense to eat. "I sent for Neji hours ago, is he still seeing to Chouza's wife?"<p>

Shibi shook his head. "Neji wrapped her body in a tarpaulin, and dragged her out to the woodshed, but then he left."

"_Left_? Left the manor?"

"Yes."

"To where? And how can he possibly hope to get anywhere in this storm? The man will kill himself!"

"He didn't say where he was going, only berated me for not being at your side every minute. I am to remain in your presence at all times, he said."

Itachi could see that this order did not sit well with the older man. "And he left no word of when he would be back?"

"No. The rest of us believe he has gone after Madara."

"Damn him. _Why_ would he do that?"

Shibi blinked. "You did say you wanted him dead, didn't you?"

"When he was here!" Itachi slammed his hand against his thigh. "Not to chase him down in that blizzard and have them both end up dead!"

He spent a few minutes venting his feelings via a few clipped curses before he managed to reign himself in. God, if anything happened to Neji…"All right. It can't be helped now. We will pray for his return. How is Chouza?"

"Neji gave him a bottle of port before he left. Chouza is in the kitchens…he does not want to be approached just now."

"Words cannot convey how sorry I am." Itachi briefly hung his head "He has every right to blame me. Had I but acted sooner…"

Shibi did not comment. Just then, Itachi would have liked Neji's reassurance, as he was sure the man would have given him. He felt utterly alone, out of his depth, and floundering. His father gone, his brother unreachable, and now Neji, whom he now realized was his last anchor, also gone, maybe never to come back.

Itachi squared his shoulders. "There's no need for you to stay in my rooms tonight, Shibi. Guard the place with the others. I will go down and sit with Chouza for awhile."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The wind was beyond cruel. It was so cold that Neji's balls drew up into tight little walnuts, but he was sufficiently pissed to combat the elements with the determination very few people knew he had. He had a pair of snowshoes strapped to his footwear, was bundled up securely, and was neither injured nor starving, as Madara was, so he thought he'd get where he wanted to go. So long as he kept up the strength to keep pushing against the wind that wanted to tear him off his feet, he didn't foresee any problems. His anger helped him there.

Besides, unlike Madara, he knew where he was going without having to _see_. Sail enough times and you grew the ability to tell direction with your eyes closed. There was a feeling in the body, a way to tell where you were, where North was in relation to you. He used this skill now, since all he saw was white. He took a minute to orient himself in the howling wind once he'd left the Uchiha grounds, then began walking. Moving automatically in the gait and rhythm that would take him the farthest distance with the least fatigue on his body, he was soon lost in thought.

He didn't know what had possessed him to stay with the Uchiha for so long. Naruto had brought up some very good arguments before he'd left last month: if Itachi neither saw him nor had feelings for men, why bother staying? He'd told Naruto that he couldn't leave because he loved Itachi, but the truth was that he'd hoped to figure out a way to get Itachi to see him in turn. And then, miracle of miracles, Itachi _had_ begun noticing him. He knew Itachi was attracted on some latent level, and that was very gratifying, but the thing he'd feared had come to pass after all. Itachi had realized Neji's own attraction and sent him packing. He'd had time to consider what could have made Itachi terminate his valet status during all the time he'd avoided him. That had to be it, Neji thought now. And so, he'd remained out of sight.

He'd wasted a year of his life on a dream. Seeing what Naruto had, he'd foolishly thought he could have it too. Worst of all, his attraction had been noticed and rebuffed. Itachi was probably disgusted with him. _And that's just fine, _Neji thought bitterly. _I've made an ass of myself, but all I need to do is help him through this mess. Then I can be gone. Naruto will take me back and I'll never have to see Itachi again._

He walked faster.

* * *

><p>For the first day or so, everyone waited on tenterhooks for either Neji or Madara to return. Every gust of wind made them hold their breath. Every creak of the house had the men stiff and alert. At one point a large tree limb was blown down onto the roof and the sound this made had them almost at each other's throats.<p>

Gradually, this expectancy gave way to a slightly lesser vigilance.

Chouza's grief, though silent, was felt by all. Especially Itachi, who thought the voiceless weight of it would drive him mad with guilt. He felt it no matter what room of the house he was in. It made the already unpleasant atmosphere even worse.

Without being asked, or asking for permission, Chouza took on his wife's duties in the kitchen and slowly set about cooking and serving. He felt close to her in that large room, where he was surrounded by her smell. Touching the dishes and utensils she'd handled helped soothe the raw hole her murder had left. No one, least of all Itachi, considered dissuading him; Itachi's condolences and apologies had fallen on a deaf ear. Chouza had only looked at him and said nothing. Shamed to the very core, Itachi had excused himself, unable to bear Chouza's stare.

-oOo-

Itachi kept out of his sight for the most part, sure that once the blizzard blew over, Chouza would be gone. He would compensate the Akimichi family handsomely, but he knew it would be a hollow gesture. Nothing could replace the man's wife.

With Madara gone, Itachi found his thoughts in greater chaos. At least he'd known what Madara was doing when he'd been in the manor. Now he had no idea, and not knowing left him free to imagine all manner of fantastic scenarios. Somehow he knew Madara would survive the elements, even wounded and starved as he was. He might even now be gathering the individuals he'd meant to bring. Visions of some kind turf war assaulted him, so that he went to the cellar and found his father's hidden stash of guns. It was locked away tight in a safe that was buried into the brick wall. He used a key from the key ring to open it. Once he had, he armed himself anew, and gave pistols to the men.

And then there was Neji. Itachi thought of him night and day, and worried for his safety. It twisted his innards to know the man was risking life and limb to carry out his wish to see Madara dead, and this after his own shabby treatment of him. If and when Neji came back, he would make amends as gracefully as possible, though he still had no idea what he would say.

As for his attraction, that need never come up. He would deal with it privately, until whatever fixation he had on Neji passed. Until then he would go about his business the same as always. He saw no reason for his attraction to interfere overmuch with his life. He had quite enough to be going on with, anyway.

For instance, when Hinata was checking his stitches two days after Madara had left, she imparted some very interesting information. _"One must know one's enemy to defeat them," _she said out of the blue.

Nonplussed, he'd blinked down at her. _"Yes…I agree."_

"_It could be that someone from Japan would have information about your enemy, as he is also from Japan. And that this someone didn't want to overstep their place or cause you shame by simply volunteering the information. It might have made you feel foolish for not having thought to ask the person in the first place. You would have lost face."_

Japanese ways and customs still took some getting used to for Itachi, but he knew enough to respond with, _"I see. That is very considerate." _She was right. He _should_ have thought to ask. When a respectable amount of time had gone by in which they could both pretend she'd never brought the matter up, he said, _"Hinata it occurs to me that you're recently quit of Japan, Madara's homeland. Might you have some information about him that would prove useful?"_

Hinata likewise responded as if she hadn't spoken previously. _"Why yes, Itachi-san. I'm honored you asked me."_

He'd then listened in complete absorption as Hinata spoke at length of a _yakuza_ organization called Akatsuki. Their reach was extensive, spreading to several countries in Europe, Asia, and many states. _"But how can they just run rampant?" _he protested. _"Surely someone has tried to stop them?" _He'd always suspected that his father had _yakuza_ dealings, but to know that his family actually was _yakuza_ turned his stomach.

Hinata had long since finished checking him over, and now sat delicately fluttering one of her many ornamental fans before her face. Itachi wondered how she could fan herself at all in his chilly room. Then he remembered the fans he'd seen her holding the night Madara had escaped. It was on the tip of his tongue to come right out and ask her if she was some sort of samurai, but he didn't quite dare. In answer to his question, she said, _"The Uchiha are an old, old family. They've had time to build power."_

"_Yes, but there are other old families..."_

"_That is very true, but none quite as old as the Uchiha. Your family has outlasted many dynasties. No other family today is as old, and there is always a patriarch who runs it."_

"_That much I know, since Father was patriarch. I was to take his place. Who is Madara's heir?"_

"_He has none, though it is widely known that he has always wanted an heir. He has bedded scores of women, but his seed took root in none of them."_

She'd left him with much to think about. He couldn't precisely say if any of it was immediately useful, but none of it hurt. He wondered what Neji would make of the information…before remembering that there was no guarantee he'd ever see Neji again. As always whenever he thought of the man, he glanced at the nearest window. The storm had now raged for six days straight and looked to be capable of raging for another six. How could so many catastrophes pile up on him at once? Even the weather was against him.

He could honestly say that he was now in a completely different place mentally and emotionally than he'd been when Madara had first shown up. Everything that had happened in the week or so since Madara's arrival had done what his father had tried for over twenty years to do; turned him into a hard, merciless rock. He felt as if any softness in him had been utterly leeched away by the sheer enormity of the stress he lived with. All of it, his father's death, his mother's abuse, the attacks, and most especially Cook's death and Chouza's grief, all of this had finally done the job of turning him into a ruthless wretch. He felt robbed of all emotion. There was no softness in him now. Too much rested on his defeat of Madara for him to be soft, and the longer he was stuck in this house, spending most of his time alone, the more he could feel himself withdrawing farther into himself.

If he could somehow go back to the moment his mother had arrived with Madara, Itachi thought with detachment that he would shoot him in his face. He would do it without a moment's hesitation or the slightest qualm of guilt.

It was his fondest wish that Madara died in the storm, or that Neji caught up to him and finished him. More likely, the bastard would survive and the first thing he would do, would be to contact his men in Panama and have Sasuke killed. Itachi was sure of this. Many times he thought of braving the storm himself, but he always decided against it. There was no guarantee he would survive those conditions, and even if he did the telegram office would be deserted. _Well, good then, _he told himself. _There will be no way for him to contact anyone either. _

Ah, but Madara was a cunning piece of work. That thought always followed after all was said and done. Madara had not come to enjoy the power he did by chance. He would find a way to get what he wanted, no matter the cost. Itachi planned to be ready for him.

* * *

><p>Fortune smiled on Neji. There weren't many red Indians left this close to the city, but for whatever reason he ran across a party of them wrapped in furs and pulling a travois. What anyone was doing out in this weather he didn't know, but they allowed him to share their food (probably taken from deserted shops), and gave him one of their large smelly furs for added warmth. He was able to make it to his first destination only two days after setting out, a trip that would have taken two hours by carriage. He ascertained that the man he'd come to see was unharmed, before taking him with him. Late that night, Neji and his companion made it to a second destination and stumbled against the stoop.<p>

-oOo-

By the flickering light of a candle two large men sat at a roughly made wooden table. The older of the two men ran a blunt fingertip under a line of text in the New England Primer as he read in the slow, painful manner of someone who'd only recently learned his letters. "Doh-"

"Do," the younger man quietly corrected.

"Do n-not…the…uh..uh-bow…uh-bom…bomeenablee?"

"Abominable."

"Abominable. Do not the abominable…th-thing…wuh-hitch…_which_…I hate. Suh…saith. The Lord. Do not the abominable thing which I hate, saith the Lord," the older man finished triumphantly. He wiped his brow of sweat, though the room was frigid.

"That's much better, you're doing-"

A furious pounding rattled their door just then, sending the older man reaching for his pistol, and the younger one surging to his feet. They looked at each other. "Go see," the older one whispered. "Careful, now."

-oOo-

Neji lifted his fist to pound again, supporting his companion, who was nearly dead with cold, but the door was unbolted and opened a crack. He pulled down his muffling scarf enough for the small dark eye to recognize him, before the door was pulled open wider and he was yanked inside.

"Neji!" 'Bee yelled. He lifted him off his feet in a bear hug, snowy clothes and all.

Ei, Bee's brother, pointed at the man who'd fallen in behind Neji. "Who dat?"

Neji extricated himself with difficulty, and shrugged out of the buffalo skin as Bee finally shut the door. "He's with me, Ei. Been a long time, neh?"

There was a tense moment wherein Ei narrowed his eyes at Neji and the other man. He was a distrustful person, a fact Neji knew came from starting life as a slave. Finally, the pistol was set aside, and Ei came forward. He stood looking at all three of them before his slow smile broke across his face. It transformed the lined features into a vivid reminder that Ei had been very handsome in his youth. He grabbed Neji into a one armed hug and managed to lift him completely.

"Ain't seen yo' white ass in years, boy," Ei rumbled as he set him down again. "On'y a white man would be dumb enough to go out in dis storm. 'Choo want?" He looked at the newcomer expectantly.

Neji made the introduction, but quickly launched into his reason for coming. "I need a favor."

"Figured. Bee, put the kettle on." He led the way to the table. There was a merry fire going in the grate that didn't quite warm the room. Compared to outside, though, it was heaven. Neji and the man he'd come with sat at the end of the table closest to it. "Shoot," Ei said when they were all comfortable. Bee brought over four mismatched mugs of steaming black coffee.

"I need someone to sail to Hawaii and make a rescue. We're talking _yakuza_," Neji added. He wrapped his frozen hands around his mug, letting the steam defrost his face. "Danger. Big time."

"Sail," Ei said flatly. "In this weather. You's crazy."

"As soon as you feel you can." Neji chewed his lip a moment. "And if you could make a stop in Panama…"

Ei shook his head slowly, staring at his mug. "You know me, I's always ready to help you or Naruto. Y'all been a real friend to Bee and me when we came here, but I don't know. Tha's a big favor. Crew, supplies, weapons…tha's money."

Here, the man who'd come with Neji leaned forward and began to talk.

* * *

><p>Four days after Madara's escape, there was a commotion downstairs in the foyer. Itachi arrived amidst the shouts and threats of Shibi, Shikaku and Gai to find two tall, snow-covered men in their midst. He had his pistol in his hand immediately, and shoved his way to the center of the ring to stand directly before the new arrivals. "Who are you," he demanded. "You're on private property. If you've come seeking refuge from the storm, I'm afraid you'll find no shelter here." He hefted the pistol for emphasis.<p>

One of the men unwrapped a long woolen scarf from around his head, dropping snow and exposing tendrils of brown hair. "If the others had given me a chance to get a word in…Look, I understand if I'm not welcome," Neji said through his chattering teeth. "But at least accept my companion. I went to a lot of trouble to get him for you, sir."

He'd been worried and angry without pause for the past four days, but the sight of Neji now completely overrode everything else Itachi was feeling. His entire body reacted, first warming, then growing tense as his muscles all stiffened. He felt as if his bowels, lungs, and heart had all exchanged places. They tumbled agitatedly inside him, and for a moment, just a moment, Itachi couldn't breathe. He struggled for another moment or two, before his control asserted itself once more. By the time Itachi was restored to his proper faculties, Neji had turned from him and was answering questions.

The other men all wanted to know if Neji had found and killed Madara. "Of course not," Neji said, surprised. "I wasn't going after him. I went to bring this man in case Madara tried to kill him."

Itachi now saw the second man unwrapping himself as well. His blond hair named him before his face was exposed. Yamanaka Inoichi looked grey with cold and fatigue, but he made his bow to Itachi, who returned it with a short nod of his head. He turned immediately to Neji and lost no time. "Neji. A word, if you don't mind. Shibi, bring tea, brandy, and warming bricks. Quilts. And have a room prepared. Inoichi, please join us."

The foyer was soon empty save for Itachi, Neji and Inoichi. Neji eyed the way the men hurried to obey, the pistol still in Itachi's hand, and the look of unyielding indifference on Itachi's face. Things had definitely changed in his absence. He wasn't quite sure what had brought on the change, or if it had anything to do with him, but he hadn't forgotten his own resolve to see Itachi through this crisis and then leave. Seeing Itachi face-to-face, speaking with him after all this time…it left a hot knot in his own guts, but all he said now was, "Of course, sir."

-oOo-

In the den, Itachi sat glaring at Neji. Inoichi was seated on the other side of the wide desk, across from Itachi and beside Neji. He spent the time waiting for the tea to be brought watching them both. There was a palpable tension between them, something that was going unsaid, but was nevertheless being screamed to anyone perceptive enough to notice. Itachi's stare was unblinking, almost feverish. The look itself was unreadable, but surely it was the height of bad manners to stare at anyone for so long? Especially a valued assistant who'd risked the elements to do Itachi a favor? Itachi looked nowhere else, just at Neji, and Neji kept his own eyes lowered, staring at the desk as if unaware of the dark eyes on his face.

Neji most definitely was not unaware. He could well imagine the fascinated disgust that fueled Itachi's stare. He sat through it, comforting himself with the knowledge that he could well be back on Naruto's ship by summer, but he'd be damned if he squirmed or showed shame. He wasn't ashamed, had long since accepted who and what he was. And it wasn't like he'd ever approached Itachi, so the bastard could damned well climb off his high horse of superiority and insult.

Itachi could find nothing untoward about Neji's appearance; he seemed to have suffered no lasting effects from being out in the blizzard, though his lips were still a bit blue. He waited until the brandy-flavored tea had been poured, and each man was wrapped in a warmed quilt before getting to the point. "An explanation, Neji, for you leaving the manor without my permission."

Neji took the hot brick swaddled in flannel that Shibi handed him and put it in his lap. He curled himself around it, just as Inoichi was doing. Between the tea, the quilt, and the brick he felt much stronger. He was able to lift his eyes to meet Itachi's at last as he said, "Forgive me sir, but I'm your assistant, aren't I? I'm to assist you? Well then I should be given the freedom to do so in the best way I know how."

"Your tone borders on insolence," Itachi snapped. "And no matter _what_ you do, it is to be run by me _first_. That much should be obvious even to a simpleton."

Neji grit his teeth, but ignored that to continue. "Madara left. I assumed he would survive and go after Inoichi first thing." He turned to Inoichi. "He _has_ been asking certain questions, hasn't he? Before this storm?"

"Yes," the lawyer nodded. He took another long sip of his tea and sighed. "But as I told him, I don't know anything about his interests. It's why that creature Suigetsu is installed in my office. He goes through my records daily, searching Fugaku's files and information."

"Where are those files?" Itachi asked.

Inoichi reached into his shirt and brought out a thick leather folder. "This was all I could hide. Madara has the rest, but I can tell you what's in them from memory."

Itachi sat back, thinking. Inoichi _would_ be a likely target, he admitted. Killing him would prevent Itachi receiving from information on what Madara was after, thereby eliminating the chance that Itachi would get to it first. Neji had acted responsibly, if precipitously.

"I must thank you, even if you didn't send Neji," Inoichi said after another sip of tea. "And for contracting those fascinating negroes A and B. I'd never met a negro before, but they seem quite able to-" He stopped at Itachi's frown of confusion, and looked to Neji for help.

"Ei and Bee are old friends of mine," Neji explained to them both. "They don't actually have names, as I understand it. Their former owners named them A and B, and Bee later put an actual spelling to the letters."

"Slaves?" Itachi breathed. "Slavery hasn't been in practice for decades."

"No, but a few landowners still practiced it illegally up until recently," Neji said. "Ei was born before slavery was abolished. Bee came after it was done away with, but their owner hung on to them. Anyway, the owner died and they were finally able to make their way north, where they've been sailing ever since. Been doing it longer than I have, to be honest. They were the ones I said might go after Ino and her mother, and they've agreed."

"And I've agreed to finance the entire operation," Inoichi added. "It's my family they're rescuing, after all."

"They've also agreed to stop in Panama," Neji concluded. "Chouji can be told of his mother, and Naruto can be apprised of the situation in full via the letter I left with Ei and Bee."

Itachi touched his breast pocket, where his letter to Sasuke sat. "If they haven't left by the time the storm abates, I have a letter I want taken to Sasuke."

There was silence for a few minutes. The fire crackled across the room, and the wind gusted against the windows. After awhile, Inoichi quietly asked if he could be shown to a room, at which point Itachi remembered his manners. Shibi came in and led the older man away. Neji remained. Itachi returned to staring at him.

"Sir-"

"You did well, Neji. You shouldn't have left without telling me, but your actions weren't reckless, as I'd originally thought."

"Glad you approve," Neji said stiffly.

Patience worn thin, Itachi brought the flat of his hand down on the desk with a loud clap. "Stop it. Your rudeness is intolerable. Have you any idea how worried I've been? If you did you'd think twice before heaping more stress on my head." He stood angrily and buttoned his jacket, then took up the pistol he'd set to one side. "I'm relieved you're back home and safe, but I won't stand for your disrespect anymore, is that understood?"

Neji slowly got to his feet.

"I asked you a question, Neji."

Neji was confused. A burst of gladness had rocked him at hearing that Itachi had been worried, but now he was being treated like the lowest servant. "It is, sir."

"Good." Itachi strode briskly from the room. "We will have another meeting with Inoichi in the morning."

-oOo-

Itachi made it to his room and nearly shouted at Shibi, who was laying out his nightclothes. All he wanted was to be alone. He made himself count to five before speaking. "Has Yamanaka been fed and given clothing?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. You may leave me, Shibi."

Once alone, Itachi prepared himself for bed, as he'd been doing for a few days now. He preferred Shibi to prowl the house with the other men. When he was done, he set the pistol on his pillow. He laid for a time persistently thinking of nothing, before forcing his eyes closed and keeping them that way.

_Thank heavens he's safe. _

His jaw finally unclenched and his face relaxed. Sleep came.

* * *

><p>The following morning saw the last of the blizzard leaving New York. It left behind thickly falling snow, and drifts over ten feet high in some places. Inside Uchiha Manor, Inoichi sat down to breakfast with Itachi and his mother, and was introduced to Hinata, who made him work to remember his rusty Japanese.<p>

After, Itachi gathered Neji and Inoichi in the den once more. He didn't waste time on pleasantries. "Now that the storm is ending, Madara might put in an appearance at any time," he began. "That man has survived, I know it. I _feel_ it. I _must_ know what he's after, Inoichi."

"I understand, but he never referred to the object by name," Inoichi said. He tapped the files he'd brought along, where they sat on Itachi's desk. "He always referred to it as his legacy. We can look through these but it could be anything."

The three of them spent the next hour going through what proved to be records of sales, purchases, ventures started and closed, and money owed. "This makes no sense," Itachi said in frustration. "I _know_ all this, I have similar records myself. There is nothing here that Madara can consider his, or of sufficient value to _claim_ as his, and nothing of mine sheds any light either. Why is he so bent on getting my share of the fortune and business if Father was the one who took his legacy? Father left me nothing new."

Neji lifted his head. "Wait. Madara keeps saying your father took something from him. Do we know when this alleged theft took place? Was it when Madara was in Japan? Because if so, your father would have had to go there to take it, wouldn't he?"

That had all three of them going still. "By God, Neji, you're right. Bring my mother here at once."

-oOo-

Neji returned with Mikoto, Hinata following quietly behind. Itachi didn't even give them a chance to sit before asking, "Has father ever been to Japan?"

Mikoto thought for a few seconds. "Once. The year you and your brother began boarding school. He was gone that entire year, remember? You and Sasuke wanted to come home for the holidays but couldn't because Fugaku hadn't returned."

Itachi frowned. "Mother, that was at least fifteen years ago! Was that the only time?"

"Yes."

"All right." Itachi rubbed his forehead with the fingertips of one hand. "Did he have anything with him when he returned, anything Madara could consider a great loss?"

"No," Mikoto said slowly. "But he did mention that our fortunes would change, and they did. Our wealth increased almost overnight."

"Did he behave oddly?" Neji asked. "Once he'd come back from Japan?"

Mikoto took the liberty of sitting. She turned to face them. "Not especially, no. His business trips increased, but he said that he had more to manage now and would be away from the manor on occasion, seeing to them."

Itachi dismissed her. "Father did something in Japan, something that put his status over Madara's."

Hinata, who hadn't left when Mikoto had, spoke up. _"Fifteen years ago. That was around the time Madara's favorite concubine was found murdered in her home. Madara went mad, killing over a hundred servants and their families. We, those of us who heard the tale, thought it was over her death, but perhaps it was because of what your father took."_ She got up and left on this note.

-oOo-

After the meeting was over, Neji got her alone. _"Can't your people find out what Madara's after?"_

Hinata looked out at the snow that refused to stop falling. At least the wind had gone. That was something. _"Did you send my telegram the day Itachi-san was attacked?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Then they are moving into place in Hawaii and Japan. They have their orders. If they discover something, they will let me know. How long before telegrams are available again, I don't know, but I will send another when this snow desists." _She turned to give him a direct look._ "What of you?"_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"You and Itachi-san. The tension between you two is enough to cause another storm. Now is not the time to be distracted. Make your conquest. Have it out of your mind so that your focus is where it should be."_

Neji turned to go, but not before snarling over his shoulder, _"I don't need to be told by you when to fuck. Stay out of my business. Oh, and don't plan on being here much longer; as soon as Madara's dead and Itachi's safe, I'm going back to work for Naruto."_

Hinata hid her small smile with the edge of her fan._ Ah, Neji-kun. Your love is a wildfire in your breast. Only death with part you from Itachi-san, and those of us who have eyes see it very well._

* * *

><p>For the rest of the day, Itachi sat with Inoichi. They went over records, files, papers, things each of them remembered Fugaku mentioning. It was tedious work, and they discovered nothing. Itachi found his mind wandering on more than one occasion, and it did not wander in a helpful direction. Inoichi left for his guest room that evening after sharing dinner with his host, and Itachi hardly noticed him leaving. He sat staring at the closed drapes.<p>

Neji. His thoughts seemed to center completely on Neji. The man hadn't been back twenty-four hours and already Itachi felt pushed to the very end of his endurance.

Having Neji back generated entirely too much turmoil, he concluded. He was used to his thoughts being ordered, _needed_ them to be ordered just now with Madara in the mix. The way Neji went about the house trying to keep out of his way, and the way he himself yearned for the sight of him…no, something had to be done. He sat with his chin on his knuckles, turning over everything in his mind.

After much hard thought, Itachi resigned himself to the knowledge that as his attraction wasn't going anywhere, and since it most definitely _was_ interfering with his day-to-day life (he couldn't see Neji or hear his voice without his nethers becoming uncomfortably tight, and his heart thudding), the attraction would have to be addressed. It was the only way he'd have peace of mind enough to resolve this issue with Madara. He saw that now. Of _course_ such a thing couldn't be ignored. No problem had ever been solved by ignoring it. As nerve-wracking as the idea was, he would have to come clean with Neji. Maybe once it was in the open, the situation could be dealt with in a civilized manner, because to go on with the amount of pressure he lived with was to invite an early grave.

Summoning Shibi, he asked him to have Neji meet him in the den in ten minutes. He would lay the matter out for Neji, and they could finally get past the animosity building between them.

And then…well, then perhaps a discussion would follow. Heavens, but how did one express an attraction to another man?

Now that he'd come to the decision, Itachi felt a private bit of anticipation. He _wanted_ it out between them, so that they could share it and…well, yes. He envisioned pleasant afternoons having tea with Neji, more of the pleasantly heated looks they used to exchange, and maybe (if he dared) a bit of hand-holding. Why, if things went very well between them, he might even kiss Neji's cheek. Or his hand. There could even be embraces. The thought of taking Neji into his arms and holding him left Itachi almost weak with longing. What would it feel like to hold another man? He couldn't recall embracing Karin above once or twice. It hadn't felt like much, swaddled as she'd been in the many layers of clothing women wore.

That was getting ahead of himself, of course. Hand-holding and tea were quite a ways along the courtship ritual, as was kissing. Then Itachi wondered if normal courtship etiquette even applied here, since he wouldn't be courting Neji for marriage. He didn't know _what_ he'd be doing, or what would happen after he confessed his interest. Precisely what was he interested in? If not marriage or being Neji's lover, then what?

His thoughts shifted to what he'd read in the book, about _seme_ and _uke_. Naturally he, Itachi, would be the _seme_. It would therefore fall to him to guide things properly. Perhaps a walk. Yes, that seemed like the perfect place to start. Once the storm passed, and if an evening permitted, he and Neji could go for a walk in the park, which would be picturesque with snowfall and icicles. They might stop under a snow-laden tree, laugh quietly…Neji would look at him and Itachi would be discreet, but perhaps he could kiss Neji's hand then. It might be that Neji would be moved to go so far as to lay his head on Itachi's breast….but no, Neji was taller, so perhaps-

Neji arrived in the den before he could find an answer to these questions. Itachi got up, came around his desk, and stood before it nervously. Thrusting his sweating hands in his pockets as Neji slowly advanced into the room, he tried to compose his features.

-oOo-

Neji stopped a few feet from Itachi, looking at him steadily.

_Christ, look at his face. This is it, _Neji thought. _He's going to say something about my misbegotten feelings, then fire me completely. _He'd been expecting it. Things had been way too tense since he'd come back. His jaw flexed as his body tightened in denial of leaving Itachi for good. _I won't beg. I won't._ He said nothing.

Neither did Itachi. The silence stretched out between them, with Neji staring at Itachi, and Itachi staring down at the carpet. "Sir?" Neji prompted. "You wanted to see me?"

Itachi realized suddenly that he'd never courted anyone. He'd learned how, of course, the same as any boy did, but he'd never employed the practice. His father had arranged his marriage to Karin, he had gone on a few outings with her, and then they'd been wed. End of story. _Had_ he courted anyone, the simple matter of asking permission of the girl's father would have been his statement of interest, period. One did not come right out and _say_ they were attracted. Never, Itachi realized. God, no. _But then what am I to do? _

"Sir?" Neji said again. The longer Itachi went without speaking, the more nervous he became. It seemed, though, that nothing _would_ be said. That was anti-climactic; he'd been secretly looking forward to having his feelings out in the open, that way he could stop pretending all the time. Not sure if he was disappointed or relieved, he turned to go.

Without thinking, Itachi reached out and grabbed his wrist.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Since I got so many reviews for last chap, I figure everyone who's following this fic has read it. Plus I had this done and thought I might as well put it up.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8<span>

There was shock, more than anything else. Actually, there was _only_ shock. Nothing else. Not at first. Neji stood there, his arm stretched behind him, breathing shallowly, while his brain seemed to shut down for those few tense seconds. To compensate, his senses kicked into overdrive.

Itachi's hand was strong and hard against his wrist. Neji even felt the faint callouses on the palm, evidence of regular sword practice. He heard the wind clearly, heard infinite echoes and tones in the wind. The fire in the hearth sent heat rippling across the room in waves he could almost see. He could _feel_ the waves, how they undulated in the room, against his body, and the faint pressure they caused woke an answering heat in him. It began in his chest, spread to his face and hands. And then, finally, he could feel and hear his heart knocking away madly in his breast.

He slowly turned his head to look behind himself.

At seeing the expression of stern determination on Itachi's face, Neji had a revelation. With astonishment, delight, and a healthy dose of disbelief, he saw –hoped, doubted, hoped again- that maybe…possibly…(no other explanation fit)…that Itachi might have realized his own attraction at long last. Realized it and accepted it. He turned around completely now, quaking in his shoes and suddenly drenched in sweat.

Itachi clenched his jaw tightly, but persevered. His embarrassment was downright atrocious, but he _would_ say his piece. "Neji."

"Sir?"

He saw that Neji's face… no, his eyes. Neji's eyes held an odd gleaming light in them. His face was damp with sweat, and Itachi realized that his own shirt was beginning to stick to him. He swallowed nervously, took a breath, and tried again. "Neji, I-"

Neji's eyes dropped. Itachi followed his gaze and saw with utter chagrin that he was firmly holding Neji's wrist. Squeezing it. He hadn't even been aware of reaching out, really. The contact was unforgivable, of course. One did not touch others like that, most _especially_ servants. He dropped Neji's hand at once, then wiped his sweaty palm down the front of his jacket…before realizing that the gesture looked as if he felt contaminated by touching Neji. "I apologize," he blurted. "_Dammit_." One did not apologize to servants either. Or swear in front of them, or show anything less than iron self-control. He'd now made a complete botch of what should have been an elegant declaration. What was _wrong_ with him?

Neji's brows rose. He was torn between amusement at Itachi's flustered manner, and elation at the man being flustered at all.

_Enough, _Itachi thought repressively. _Control yourself and have done with it. _He lifted his chin resolutely and cleared his throat. "Neji."

"Sir."

"We are both grown men, yes?"

"Last I checked."

"And…as…as quiet as it's kept, sometimes men have…feelings…er, no. Sometimes there's an _interest_. Yes, that's the word. Sometimes there is an interest, a…a fondness, if you will. Between two men, yes?"

Trembling just a little harder, and growing harder by the second, Neji inclined his head.

"Yes. Like there is between my brother and Naruto."

Neji thought of pointing out that what was between Naruto and Sasuke was considerably stronger than interest or fondness, but Itachi might not understand the difference.

"And I'm sure you're aware of a similar…well…development …existing between us. Yes?" Itachi's eyes held Neji's.

"I'm aware," Neji said quietly. Then, because he simply had to know, "I wasn't aware that you were interested in men or that you knew of your inclination."

Itachi seemed to pull himself up even straighter. "I have no such inclinations, mark my words."

"But-"

"There is simply this…matter…between us. It cannot be ignored, therefore it must be acknowledged, and now we have done so."

"I see." Neji smiled. "Actually, I don't. I have feelings for you. You know that now."

"Feelings? No, I thought…well, I thought you were attracted."

_Feelings between men are taboo, _Neji noted with interest. _At least where he is concerned. It's fine for his brother, but Itachi considers himself too perfect for that. I can play along…for now. _"I am attracted."

"Yes, and?"

"And you're attracted to me." Neji took a step closer.

"As I've stated."

"All right. Now what?" He took another step closer. "Now that we can stop hiding and pretending, what are we going to do about it?"

"Do?" Neji's proximity fairly scattered his thoughts. Had the man always been so tall? He had to be three or four inches over six feet, Itachi thought wildly. He remembered thinking of Neji putting his head on his breast and found the notion doubly ludicrous now. But that reminded him of his other plans. He found his control and tugged it back into place. "Do. Yes. Of course. Well, we are obviously occupied with the Madara situation, but I thought perhaps we could go for a walk once the weather permitted."

"A walk."

"Yes. Neji, _do_ allow me room to breathe, you're standing far too close."

Neji remained where he was. "Just a walk?"

"Well, no. I thought perhaps you'd like to have tea with me on occasion, or…or…"

"Or you could bring me flowers? Write sonnets for me? Perhaps you'd like to send a telegram to my uncle in Japan and ask him for my hand in marriage? Sir, I know my hair is long, but do I look like some simpering maid to you? Like someone who'd consent to walks and tea and God only knows what else you're thinking?"

Itachi's mouth opened in shock. He knew a moment of bewildered hurt that Neji would speak of his fantasies with such scorn and disregard, but his anger quickly pushed it aside. "You _cad_! How dare you speak to me like that, when I've done the impossible by coming forward in the first place."

Neji tried to reign in his frustration and disappointment; Itachi didn't know anything, and consequently only had the interactions of men and women to guide him. He took a few steps back, then went around Itachi and leaned his ass on the desk. He studied his shoes. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "It's just…now that we're talking about it, I expected something else."

Itachi inclined his head, soothed from his insult. "You're forgiven. This situation is difficult at best, for both of us."

"And then some."

"What were you expecting?" Itachi asked keenly. He was dying to know how two men _did_ court.

"Not tea and walking."

"What then? What was I supposed to say?"

That was a good question. "I'm not sure," Neji said carefully.

Itachi understood. "This is new for you too, isn't it. Of course it is. Attraction between men isn't at all common. There's no instruction manual on how to go about it, as there is for courting women. But do not worry, I won't steer us wrong. We can discover the way together." He gave a bracing smile.

Neji gave Itachi a sidelong look, assessing him.

_He refuses to mention feelings, and truthfully I can't say for sure if he has any for me. It could be exactly as he says and he's only attracted. Then again, attraction often leads to feelings. And I can't help thinking that he wouldn't have suggested a walk or tea unless there were feelings involved. Jesus…he probably thinks he'll take me for rides in his buggy and shit. And that's aside from the obvious conclusion he's drawn about who's _seme _here. Obvious and wrong. Then again, he probably hasn't thought of that since he seems not to think of sex at all. _"You have no idea what two men do, do you," he said suddenly. "Sasuke never told you."

"Well, I know he and Naruto love each other, and that they…have…relations of some kind, but that hardly applies here, does it?" Itachi blinked a few times, as if afraid of the answer.

Neji's voice lowered. "I don't know, does it?"

"What on earth do you mean?" The tone Neji used, and the look on his face now sent a frisson of alarm tingling along Itachi's nerves. That question held other questions in it. Hidden things. Things he didn't understand, and these hidden questions were very important, he sensed. He could almost feel the questions circling the room, like sharks in the water, waiting to swoop in and savage him when he wasn't looking. "Neji? _What do you mean by that_?"

Neji held Itachi's gaze a moment more, letting the tension build... "Nothing." He straightened from leaning on the desk, and the mood was broken. "How does this change things between us?"

Itachi wilted in relief…which he would examine later. "I beg your pardon?"

"Am I still working for you?"

"Of course! Everything shall remain exactly as it was; it's just that now that we've addressed our issue, we can re-focus on Madara properly. Wouldn't you agree? Certainly, we can stop avoiding each other. And speaking of things being as they were…Neji, you've failed to address me correctly several times now."

"I see." It was as he'd thought. He stared at Itachi for a long moment. "Good night. _Sir_."

Watching Neji's long stride out of the den, Itachi cursed softly. He'd done it again, somehow insulted Neji when he hadn't meant to. Then he thought of how he'd successfully brought their attraction for each other into the open and rather thought that he should be congratulated. He had just navigated an extremely touchy situation. _But Neji is a very prickly individual, easily offended over the smallest thing. I'll have to tell him that I'll not countenance such behavior in a…a companion._

* * *

><p>With the passage of the blizzard, the inhabitants of Uchiha Manor took stock. The horses turned out to be fine, since Gai had braved the storm on a few occasions to bring them food and melt snow for them to drink. Chouza was discovered gone the morning the snow finally stopped. Itachi quietly instructed the remaining men not to follow him. Arrangements were made to have his wife buried properly.<p>

-oOo-

At the docks, Ei was standing aboard _Lightning, _his pride and joy. She was a mix between a collier and a caravel, a sailing vessel with cargo capacity and speed, commissioned by him and built under his supervision. Fifteen years old and still a beauty. He cared not one bit for the new-fangled steam ships that were becoming all the rage. He didn't trust new inventions. His _Lightning_ might be slower, but he knew every inch of her and trusted her. She'd never failed to bring him and his brother safely home.

Before him stood his main crew. Petty officers were ranged behind them. Bee stood at his right hand, and slightly behind him. Neji had dropped off his employer's letter to someone in Panama an hour ago and they were now ready to depart. He spoke in a voice loud enough for his men to hear, but no louder than that.

"Lis'en close now," Ei began. "We done loaded up in the night, and spoke to our man in the wharfinger's office. They got us down as carrying building materials and such. We know what we's really carrying and we know why. Don't nobody else need to know, so if'n someone _asts_ you, you keep yo' damn mouf _shut_. Direct them to me or Bee here. Tha's an order you don' want to disobey, trus' me. We'll stop off in Panama for a day. Take on water and food whiles I tend to sumthin'. Then we go on to Honolulu. After dat, we gon' hit the hard stuff. Dem women need to be found and we's getting good money to find 'em. Be some fightin'. Might be we die, but if we do, we's gon' die with dey blood on us." He glared around at them, as if waiting to be contradicted. He got silence, and grunted in approval. He knew his men, and they knew him; there'd be nothing but strict obedience.

Bee took over once his brother left the main deck. "Darui. Take us out."

The waves were a bit choppy, and the odd flurry of snow blew past, but otherwise the sailing conditions were fine for any experienced seaman. Lord, but he was looking forward to traveling south. He and his brother hated cold weather. And a tussle with _yakuza_ would be good; neither of them had had a good fight in years. Sometimes a man just needed to get his hands dirty and his blood pumping.

-oOo-

Madara was having similar thoughts. He lay in the dark, eyes closed, body slowly healing. _Fugaku and his hell-spawned get have given me more trouble than all my enemies combined. _More than once he thought of giving up. In his secret heart of hearts, defeat hovered at the edges of his resolve, but he always rallied himself and renewed his vow of revenge. _I'm only weakened now. Once I'm well, such cowardly thoughts will cease. I _will_ have what's mine. _

Kabuto worked by the light of a few candles, keeping the room as dark and warm as possible. "Sir, it's time for another dose." He held a small ceramic cup out.

Madara let himself be fed, then lay back weakly. "The weather?" he rasped.

"Improving."

"Then the men can see about the tasks I've set them. Send them out."

"I already have, though they've reported that Inoichi is gone from his residence. No one knows where he is."

"Damn. How long before I can be up and about?"

Kabuto applied a specially mixed salve to the bullet wound and bandaged it carefully before replying. "It's hard to say, sir. It's lucky you found that house when you did, but you were still exposed to the elements for days. The bullet has given you lead poisoning, which I am doing my best to correct with my herbs-"

"But I removed the bullet myself, once I'd reached shelter."

"I understand, sir, but you still had it in you for over two days. Long enough to poison your body. And then there is the frostbite to your hands and feet…I'd say it's second degree, which will take several weeks to heal, and you still might not recover fully. Just rest, sir. I'm doing everything I can to make you well again."

Madara didn't have the energy to argue or resist. He had full confidence in Kabuto, though. Even in Japan, the man's skill was widely known.

He'd found some small family home three days after leaving Uchiha Manor and forced his way inside. Delirious, he'd still managed to kill the young couple and raid their cupboards. He'd removed the bullet, rested, eaten…but then he'd set out again the next day; he needed immediate care, and the only place he'd receive it was with his own people. It was lucky he'd found a compass in Itachi's attic, or he'd have wandered around and died in that storm. As it was, he'd only arrived here yesterday and by then he'd been nearly dead.

He counseled himself to patience. He would get well, he swore. And when he did, woe to Itachi and those with him.

* * *

><p>The following day was spent with the male staff at the manor making repairs to the house, and listing supplies that needed to be brought from town. A small group of ruffian boys showed up at the gate, asking if they could shovel the property for coins. Itachi hired them, and had them lay salt on the drive. Gai went into the city and came back many hours later at the head of a long line of delivery wagons. There was wood for fires, produce, meat, milk…Neji directed all the deliveries to the back of the house.<p>

These mundane things went on for a few days as the city put itself back to rights. Itachi pored over records and files again and again with Inoichi, all with the same results, until he finally sat back with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sir?" Inoichi said gently. "We can stop for today, if you wish. I daresay it's nearly lunch time."

Itachi was tempted to give up. He couldn't think at all these days. Fighting the urge to yawn, he shook his head. "No. Let's go over it again."

"If I may say so, we've been over these files a hundred times. There is nothing here."

"There has to be. Madara wants my records, so what my father took has to be something that came to me in my share of the inheritance."

"But you said yourself that your father always kept the most important transactions undocumented. What makes you think a record of it is here or anywhere?"

"I don't know!" Itachi snapped. He calmed at once, ashamed. "Forgive me. On reflection, maybe I could use a break."

Inoichi understood and left without a word.

-oOo-

Neji appeared at the door a short time later. "Sir?"

Itachi looked up. A mixture of eagerness and resentment hit him at the sight of Neji. "You've been avoiding me still."

"I've been busy putting your house to rights and overseeing the men." He came into the room. "Sir, I've just come from downtown. I have some troubling news."

"I'd like you to have lunch with me."

"We now have confirmation that Madara is alive. He's invoked his position as majority holder of the Uchiha businesses and frozen your bank account."

"Did you hear what I said, Neji?"

"And did you hear me? _Sir_? Madara has cut you off. Worse, all the creditors are now demanding payment. I've no doubt that's Madara's doing as well."

"Why are you avoiding me?"

Neji ground his teeth together until his jaw ached. He went swiftly to the den door, looked out, then shut it. He was back in front of the desk at once, speaking in a low, furious hiss. "What else am I supposed to do? According to you there's only an interest between us, something that shouldn't cause any deviation from our normal interactions. I am your assistant. _This_ is how we interact. What more do you want? You're beginning to confuse me."

Itachi seriously considered reprimanding Neji for speaking so rudely. The man just never learned, it seemed. "I suppose you're right. I wasn't clear. Very well, in public we may carry on as usual. In private, however, I would like your company."

Neji leaned his hands on the desk and hung his head. "Explain."

"You don't command me, Neji. And I just did. Was I unclear?"

Neji lifted his head and found those black eyes unreadable. "Allow me to explain then. I'm not some woman. I don't need to be handled as if I am one. I don't need to have my reputation or my modesty preserved through safe courtship rituals. If you're attracted, fine, but unless you have feelings for me, and plan on acting on those feelings, I don't see what you could possibly want from me."

"Lunch. To begin with. Perhaps some conversation. Or are we to ignore the attraction between us now that it's acknowledged?"

"You want lunch and conversation, fine I'll give you lunch and conversation." Neji straightened up, and adjusted his jacket angrily. "Now what about your finances?"

Itachi stood as well. "Tell the new Cook to send wine with lunch. We can discuss Madara then. My sitting room, thirty minutes." Feeling triumphant now, and positively energized, he strode past Neji and out of the den, completely ignoring the irate countenance of the taller man.

* * *

><p>Shibi poured the wine for them both. To his credit, he said not a word about Itachi dining with his assistant. He left just as silently and shut the door.<p>

Neji sat with his arms crossed. His eyes took in the fine China, the gold-enameled napkin holders, and the ornate silverware. "This table is set with your finest."

"So it is."

"Why?"

Itachi finally decided that he would not insist on being addressed properly when they were in private. "Why are you angry? I thought you'd welcome the chance to be in my presence; you were upset at being discharged from your valet duties." He reached for his napkin.

_Insufferable, arrogant son of a-_ "I don't like being patronized."

Itachi narrowed his eyes now and threw his napkin down. "All right, enough. How is it that I am managing to offend you when I'm doing everything in my power to show you every courtesy?"

"Because these are courtesies you show to _women_."

"You flatter yourself. A man would never be allowed to dine with a woman unchaperoned."

Neji almost swallowed his tongue in rage. "I don't understand why you feel the need to spend time with me over a mere attraction."

Itachi paused in the act of lifting his fork. "I thought we'd settled this."

"No, we haven't. In fact, you haven't answered my question, which is what do you want from me? Besides lunch and conversation?"

Itachi calmly speared a baby potato. "Must I want something other than that?"

Ignoring his plate of food, Neji leaned forward and waited until Itachi met his eyes. "What do you feel when I'm in the room?"

Itachi carefully reached for his napkin and brought it to his mouth, chewing slowly. "I don't know what you mean, nor do I have the slightest clue as to what it is _you_ want."

"I think you do."

"You presume-"

"Because before all this came out, back when I was still your manservant, there were a few moments. Shared moments. I would look at you, and see you looking at me, and I could feel that we were on the same page. We weren't saying it out loud, but inside we knew what we felt."

Something like panicked recognition leapt to life in Itachi's chest, but he ruthlessly tamped it down and stood up. "I see that asking you to lunch was not a good idea. Get out."

Neji stood as well. "No. You know what I'm talking about, you know this isn't about some damned attraction, and I think you do know what I want."

"I said to get out."

"Oh no," Neji said through his teeth. "You've opened the door now, so you can bloody well deal with the consequences." He moved around the table until he was towering over Itachi. "You don't confess an _attraction_ to a man and then expect to treat him like some virginal socialite. Men, the kind of men who have a _fondness_ for other men, don't want _lunch_, or _walks_, or _conversation_. They want a lot more than that." He stared down at the wide eyes, the flared nostrils, and the tightly compressed lips. "Just in case you _don't_ know, though…allow me to show you _exactly_ what it is I _want_, Itachi."

The shock of hearing his name from Neji effectively doused Itachi's rising outrage, but he had no time to register anything except the forceful way his shoulders were grabbed. He opened his mouth to give a blistering set down, and quite suddenly found his mouth being devoured. It was the only word he could come up with for what Neji did…he devoured him.

-oOo-

Perhaps he struggled. If he did, he didn't remember it later, nor was he aware of doing so while the assault was actually taking place. He only thought that he must have struggled, because he could not possibly have willingly let what happened _happen_ for as long as it seemed to go on.

Neji's lips had been firm and warm. He remembered that. His head had been craned back with the force of the assault, and Neji's mouth had been open on his. He remembered that too, how horrified he'd been, and the way Neji's strong hands had pulled him in tighter, so that their bodies had been in shameless contact with each other. So much heat, so much _Neji. _Their…their tongues had touched. Neji had actually _suckled_ on his, and…and there had been activity in Neji's trousers- no, he did _not_ remember any of that. Or the way his own hands had lifted to push Neji away, only to find himself pulling him closer, or how Neji had _moaned_, or how they had stumbled against the small round table set with their lunch and completely upset the wine bottle…no, none of that had happened.

Hands. Touching. A person's body was their own, it was private, it was not to be violated in this way: Itachi felt Neji's strong hands slip into his jacket, slide around his back, and close around him tightly. This was more than an embrace, this was surely _the_ most personal contact two individuals could share. Not even intercourse allowed such intimate interaction…Neji's arms completely encircled him, and the assault was suddenly more…more _there_. Deeper. Delicious. He could hear nothing above the furious thud of his own pulse, could feel nothing but Neji all over him, all around him, and the throbbing, catastrophic ache of his own body.

Partway through the assault he'd found his arms around Neji in turn. _So this is what holding a man feels like._ He'd pulled at the taller man, trying to devour him in turn with his mouth and arms, with his hands in all that long brown hair. He'd wanted…no, he'd needed. He'd just _needed_, and Neji was there, and it had been ungodly, how much he was feeling, so much so that he couldn't make sense of it, or think, or do anything but do what Neji was doing. Somewhere far away they bumped the table again, and Neji had put out a hand to steady them before they fell into the food, and he'd wanted to curse at even this minimal loss of contact. He wanted Neji's hands, both of them, to remain on him, to keep bruising him through his clothes, and hurting his nearly-healed wounds, and-

But none of that had happened.

He'd been released, he recalled. Yes, Neji had released him, breathing hard. He'd calmly, pointedly, lifted Itachi's hands out of his hair.

For a breathless moment they'd stared into each other's eyes, seeing all. Seeing all of the truth. But then Itachi blinked and lowered his gaze, and the spell was broken.

"I want you," Neji said unsteadily. "_You_. And you obviously want me too, so the next time you seek me out, I'll assume you want something _other_ than conversation."

Which meant that he was not to be sought out otherwise. Itachi remembered that loud and clear, and he remembered thinking irrationally that Neji had some nerve giving ultimatums under his roof.

Neji had left then, left Itachi standing there with his clothes in disarray, and his mind completely incapacitated by thoughts and feelings he couldn't even identify.

Shibi had come into the room at that moment, if memory served. He'd seen the wine staining the carpet, the food all over the table, Itachi's wildly unkempt appearance. "Would you like dessert, sir? Cook made apple cobbler."

* * *

><p>Neji made his way blindly out of the manor, across the grounds, and to the carriage house, where he lived in the rooms above. Once inside, he slammed the door shut, leaned against it, and covered his mouth with a hand.<p>

_Fuck, I kissed him. I really kissed him, and now he'll send my ass packing for sure. Why the fuck did I do that?  
><em>

Still shaking, still hard as a rock and leaking into his trousers, Neji slid down his door and tried to think.

But he couldn't think. The scene kept playing itself over and over in his mind until he finally just gave in and let the images wash over him.

The kiss hadn't been at all what he'd expected. He'd expected to encounter resistance. Revulsion, maybe. Outrage. Instead, it had been like setting a match to gunpowder. Itachi had flared to life in his arms, exploding in a frenzy of passionate reciprocation as if he'd been _waiting_ for Neji to touch him. He didn't believe that, though. That Itachi had been waiting. Not consciously. The man simply wasn't a sexual person.

Going over everything he knew of Itachi, Neji had to conclude that he wasn't surprised after all. It was always the quiet ones. As repressed and tightly controlled as Itachi was, he was bound to have deep wells of unfulfilled desires. Things he usually ignored. Neji had tapped into them with the kiss, and my God…my God. As a rule, he didn't usually kiss people. The men he bedded were frequently filthy creatures with rotted teeth and foul breath. Once in a while he was lucky to find some relatively clean specimen, but it wasn't often, and he'd never had a kiss like the one he'd just experienced. He spent a few stunned minutes remembering it.

There had been some shock on Itachi's part, but it had only lasted a moment. His mouth had softened at once, as had the rest of him. He'd kissed back, awkwardly at first, then with more aggression, until Neji had suddenly been holding a squirming mass of hands and arms and panting male. The way Itachi had grunted low in his throat, how his hands had tangled in Neji's hair, dislodging his ponytail, how he'd been so _hungry_ for Neji's mouth… When he'd pulled away, it was only because he'd been seconds away from throwing Itachi atop the ruined lunch and tossing the man's legs over his shoulders.

Then that moment of eye contact afterward. Itachi's eyes had been heavy-lidded, his face unguarded and open for the first time that Neji could remember. There had been so much longing on Itachi's face, so much need… And still pressed to the man as he'd been, he'd been able to clearly feel the evidence of that need.

But then he'd had to go and fuck it up by giving that ridiculous ultimatum. Neji snorted now, and that effectively scattered the memory to errant wisps of thought. Of course Itachi wouldn't seek him out. He was too prim and proper for that, for one thing. For another, if he hadn't fired Neji before he would surely do so now. Neji had finally gone too far, he admitted. And in retrospect, it was probably inevitable. He was too confused. Itachi was attracted to him, but wanted to keep his distance. Asked him to lunch, but seemed not to have romance on his mind. Demanded Neji's company, but swore he had no intention of them sharing anything but conversation. He'd snapped. Lost it, lost his resolve to keep his distance, and forced himself on Itachi. God, he'd only been dreaming of doing exactly that for the past year, and there was only so much he could take. And if he was completely honest, a part of him had really wanted to rip away Itachi's infuriating notion of Neji submitting to him in any fashion. Neji never submitted to anyone.

Still, an insidious little voice spoke up in him then and suggested that since he _hadn't_ been fired yet, and Itachi _had_ seemingly enjoyed the kiss, that there was still a possibility that he would have Itachi yet. Neji ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, shutting the voice out. It was the same voice that had kept him hoping for over a year that Itachi would come around, the same voice that kept him here when he should have been gone months ago.

_But he is coming around, isn't he? _the voice hissed slyly. _Another kiss or two and he'll be warm butter in your hands._

"No." Neji groaned in misery. "I'm going mad."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Shikaku opened the front door to find three kimono-wearing women standing there. He glanced down the drive to the iron gate, saw that it was still closed and presumably locked, then back at the women. "Yes?"<p>

One of them lifted her head to reveal eyes of such a peculiar red that Shikaku stepped back. _"We are here at Hinata-sama's summons," _this woman said in Japanese.

-oOo-

Itachi heard of them from Inoichi, whom he'd promoted as his new assistant. "Typically, such an appointment is termed as secretary. I can be both secretary and lawyer to you, and thus handle all your affairs," Inoichi had said the previous evening. By then it had been known throughout the manor that due to some kind of dispute over lunch, Neji was no longer working for Itachi. He'd handed his assistant duties over to Inoichi.

They were in Itachi's office, a room more private than the den. Itachi sat staring into space, one finger absently rubbing his lips, as Inoichi told of the women's arrival.

"Who are they?" Itachi murmured now.

"Mitarashi Anko, Yuuhi Kurenai, and a young woman known simply as Tenten."

"Describe them."

"Yes, sir. They are Japanese, and dress as the Lady Hinata dresses, with the same ornamental fans. The Mitarashi woman seems quite fierce, though she barely says a word. They have been living in this country for some time and arrived in the city by railroad. Hinata summoned them, though what their function is I don't know. Tenten is the youngest, at eighteen. Lady Kurenai is quite ah…quite beautiful. Neji gave them the wing of the manor opposite yours, since the guest room downstairs is too small to house them as well as Lady Hinata and your mother."

"Do they speak English?"

"Tenten does, yes."

"Send Hinata to me in an hour. If I'm going to be feeding three extra mouths on my limited funds, I want to know why. Speaking of my funds…?"

"It isn't good. Madara has seen to it that you're completely cut off from everything but your own account, which he managed to empty while it was frozen. Don't ask me how. He likely bribed some bank official or other. Your wealth is now limited to whatever cash you have on hand here in the manor. It is my belief that he will begin shutting down the operations of your businesses here in the city to ensure you have no income at all. There is still the matter of the creditors to be dealt with, so it looks as though we will be unable to purchase the necessities before too much longer. I will see what I can do. Of course, I'll need an escort whenever going into the city to see to your affairs. Neji volunteered, if that's all right with you, sir."

"It is."

"Then he and I intend to see just how far Madara's reach over your finances extends later today."

Itachi let him drone on until the man took his leave a short while later. He remained in his office and welcomed the solitude.

* * *

><p>Since that disastrous lunch, he'd existed in a mild daze. He was not overly responsive to those around him; his mind carried on a feverish re-enactment of Neji's assault. Endlessly. Sometimes he blinked, and was able to push the incident to the back of his mind. Long enough to conduct a conversation, or read a document. The memory of the assault led to other thoughts, but he could never seem to get past the assault itself to dwell on them.<p>

It had been hours after the incident before he'd realized that Neji had kissed him. He didn't know how he'd made the connection between what had happened and his understanding of kissing, but once the connection had been made, it became a little easier to think.

He'd been kissed. He'd never been kissed. He'd kissed Karin's hand several times, her face a few times, his father's head, his mother's hand and head, Sasuke's head…but he'd never kissed anyone like he'd kissed Neji. And no one, ever, anywhere had kissed Itachi. Not like that. Maybe his mother had kissed him when he was small, as had his father, and Sasuke had certainly given him a few exuberant brotherly kisses when he'd been little more than a babe. These had all been given to his head, or his stomach as Sasuke had used to do. None of it came even remotely close to what Neji had done. He couldn't even call what Neji had done _kissing_, but it was the closest word that fit.

And he'd enjoyed it.

As much as he wanted to deny it, as hard as he tried to tell himself that he remembered no such enjoyment, he had. He'd…participated in it. He'd come to that acceptance not long after the realization that he'd been kissed. This wasn't what had him unable to think properly. What he was unable to understand was Neji's words. About wanting him. About Itachi wanting Neji. That simple word, small as it was….want. There were hidden implications in it. What did that word mean here? Obviously it meant more kissing, but what did it really mean? What did Neji mean when he said he wanted him? It was physical, Itachi was sure of it, but at the same time the word had been imbued with a wealth of intent. Even if Neji was thinking of becoming lovers, he'd meant more than that when he'd used that word.

Yes, and what of the notion of becoming lovers? He could now admit that he and Neji had both been in a state of physical readiness. He still could not imagine two men as lovers, but obviously something had to take place? Some act? Even if the act of sodomy was as repulsive as he feared, how did one _do_ that?

He remembered telling Sasuke that he had no feelings one way or the other about sodomy or those who practiced it, but that had been when he was safely removed from the act. He'd had no interest in men, and no thoughts on _becoming_ interested in men. He'd certainly never experienced anything like that kiss…he'd still been safe. Now he rather thought he needed a few points clarified, because if there was anything at all that was now crystal clear, it was the fact that should anything else take place between them, he, Itachi, would not be _seme_. He considered himself a proper man, forceful when he had to be and far from weak, either in mind or body. In fact, he knew he was a good deal stronger than most of his contemporaries, if not all of them. That was before the kiss. He saw now that Neji was not just stronger, he was inflexible. It was as Sasuke had said, the man didn't have a subservient bone in his body. It made one wonder what he was doing as Itachi's assistant in the first place, and how he'd performed as manservant for as long as he had. What it really demonstrated, though, was how ludicrous the idea of dominating Neji in any way was. Itachi could order him and reprimand him as much as he wanted, Neji would continue to do as he saw fit. And as for that kiss…no, Itachi would not ever physically best Neji.

He'd gravely misjudged and misunderstood Neji, simply because the man had chosen to defer to him. So yes, a bit of clarification on certain matters was in order.

But no. No, nothing needed to be clarified because what had happened wouldn't be happening again. He'd make sure of it. This time he would keep his distance from Neji. No more seeking him out, no more mixed signals, no more opportunity for assaults such as the one that had taken place. He was attracted, yes, and the kiss had been… But he was lord of the manor and in the middle of a crisis of some urgency. Lives were at stake. Sasuke's life, his own, and Yamanaka's family, to mention a few. Chouza had already lost his wife. If Itachi wasn't careful, more would die and it would be all his fault. He could not afford to slip and let himself be diverted from the simple, all-important job before him, and that was to defeat Madara and restore his own life to rights. He'd never accomplish that with Neji on his mind; the man represented all manner of chaos, and Itachi routinely kept his life fastidiously ordered. There was no room for Neji and the feelings he called up. Not now, not ever.

For a second he remembered that moment after the kiss, when all had been laid bare. Then he deliberately hardened his mind against the ache in his chest, pulling the mantle of emotionless practicality that he'd worn while Neji had been away from the manor around himself once more.

It was over.

* * *

><p>AN 2: There are key difference between Itachi and Sasuke in this 'verse. I'd be interested to see if anyone is picking up on them. Obviously Itachi's story is going very differently from Sasuke's in Save Me. Simply because the characters' natures here, not to mention the circumstances, I don't think there'll be as much sex as Save Me, but there are other differences I'm illustrating. Anyone notice? :D


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I have quite a few things to say here, and the chap itself is on the long side, so you might as well kick back and relax. Get a snack, if you need one.

**First, to the reviewer calling themselves Really:** If you'll re-read my note from last chap, I stated specifically that the amount of reviews tells me how many of the people following this fic actually read the chapter, not that I updated because I had so many reviews. Truth be told, I've received much more reviews for a single chapter, and it didn't influence me to update sooner. If I have a chaptered fic, I tend to update weekly for one simple reason. Back when I was posting chapters of _Bonded_ every day, some of my readers complained that they never had a chance to read and catch up because a new chapter was always out. I tend to update every few days or once a week now because of that. You, for reasons I strongly suspect are genetic, misunderstood my note.

I wonder who you really are though, because I probably know you. Whenever you decide to grow a pair and stop being a coward, I'd be more than happy to discuss whatever issues you have with my writing in a rational exchange of PM's. Until then, kindly continue to demean yourself by showing your maturity level. I straight don't care, and won't respond to any other anonymous reviews you leave.

**Layla**: you seem to be under the same assumption that I updated because of the reviews. I didn't. The reviews only told me that I _could_ update because whoever is reading this story (not many people) read chapter 7.

-oOo-

Moving on: Quite a few of you responded to my second author's note from last chap: **Greyrocks**, **Yamanvie**, **Sheechiibii**, **ANIMEFREAK801**, **NarutoUno2**, **Sensodyne**, **Garmiet**, **Ruka**-**x3**, and **Umbrellaboots** all gave their opinion on the difference between Itachi and Sasuke in this 'verse. As one of them stated, more will be revealed as the story continues, but some of the answers were really insightful. I won't post all the scores unless you guys give me permission, but **Sheechiibii** got 95%, and **Umbrellaboots** got a 93% for the sheer depth to which she'd interpreted Itachi's motives here.

And now, regarding this chap. I've zoomed out a bit, the better to see what's going on in the big picture. Next chap we'll zoom in to focus on the occupants of Uchiha Manor once more. Also, yes…there's death in this fic, people. Those of you who know and _trust_ me will plow through to the end of the story. All I ask is trust. I know what I'm doing.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 9<span>

The residential area of Chinatown in Honolulu suffered a large fire in January 1900. Most of the damage has since been rebuilt with masonry, but at the edges of Chinatown there were still a few streets where the blackened remains of buildings stood. One of these buildings was surrounded by armed Japanese men and a few natives. The area was otherwise deserted.

The building they guarded used to be a saloon. It was now a husked out ruin of collapsing boards, rats, and burned furniture. The bar it boasted was still visible, as were the liquor racks behind it. Behind this area was the remains of the kitchen. Behind that was a short hall. A recently rebuilt trapdoor sat on the hall's floor, and this held a shiny new lock. The cinder block cellar located beneath this trapdoor had been untouched by the fire. It had been used as storage for whiskey and the few staples the saloon had served as food, namely rice.

A few women huddled in the pitch black, odorous confines of the cellar. In the three months they had all been there, more than half of their original number had died from sickness, malnutrition, or abuse. Frequently, the bodies were left in the cellar for days before they were removed. In the muggy climate of Honolulu these corpses took only hours to ripen to a point that had the survivors gagging and fainting. Coupled with the contents of the single tin pail they were required to share for their nature calls, it was no wonder that only the strongest and fittest survived.

Ino considered herself lucky. For one thing, she was alive. For another, she'd yet to be violated. Despite the severity of her circumstances, violation of her virtue was her biggest fear. She kept in the forefront of her mind that one day soon her father would rescue her. She would return to New York, where she would once more be clean and fed and pampered. She would slip into her old life, the only child of wealthy, adoring parents, and when she did, she would need her virtue. A woman's virtue was her only true wealth. Without it, there would be no marriage, no future…she would never be able to put her time in this hellish place behind her and forget it.

She'd been an instant favorite with the beady-eyed guards and natives. She and her mother had arrived disheveled, their hair loose, their clothing torn. The sight of her long blonde hair had seemed to drive the men wild, but the one in charge, one red-haired man she thought was called Nagato, had forbidden anyone touching the prisoners. He'd said the Boss wanted them undamaged. For the first few weeks Nagato had guarded them with the other men, and they had been reasonably well-treated. At least compared to now. Under his care, their pail had been emptied twice a day and their food had been lowered to them in another pail. Then Nagato had left. He hadn't been with them for over two months now by her count, and their treatment had immediately worsened.

That first night, all the youngest girls had been taken above first. Ino had huddled with her mother in a corner of the cellar, listening to the rapes take place. In all her nineteen years she had never lived through anything so horrific; the mothers had screamed in the cellar and their daughters had shrieked above. Not all of the girls had been thrown back down, either., and the ones that had survived hadn't lived long. They'd been dead by the end of the week from the nightly treatment. One of the girls couldn't have been older than seven.

There were no more children among them.

It was when the guards were selecting their next victims that she'd been inspired. She noticed that the guards left the dirtiest and sickest young women alone. Ino had held her breath and plunged her hand into the waste pail and smeared as much of the filth on her body as she could stand. It wasn't much, but the stench was so foul that she'd vomited repeatedly. Now completely unapproachable, she'd gone to her corner and watched in sick triumph as she was avoided. The guards spat on her, but that was nothing. She was spared. Her mother huddled next to her, sharing her stench.

There was no water to clean with, but some came down once a day for them to drink. Ino had washed her hands as best she could in her miserable share before attempting to eat but she'd still been extremely ill. She hadn't recovered for weeks, and by then she'd been so thin and wasted that the guards wanted nothing to do with her. She was so dirty now, on top of her sickly appearance that she was one of the ones the guards consistently overlooked. She was grateful for that. Reasonably healthy, all things considered, and grateful.

Her mother wasn't so fortunate. She had been spared being raped, along with the other older women, but she hadn't been the robust young woman her daughter had been when they'd been brought. She was weakened from nursing Ino through her lengthy illness, and the conditions in general. It was Ino who took care of her now, growing more and more worried at her mother's frailty. Time and again she'd begged the guards for more food, more water, medicine, anything. She understood very little of their rapid Japanese, but it was enough for her to comprehend the way they mocked her. If she hadn't hated them before, she certainly loathed them now. The sight of their small bodies, and leering faces filled her with a hatred that gave her strength.

-oOo-

Ino woke from a fitful sleep, brushing off the cockroaches that crawled all over any sleeping person, and sat up. By the thin cracks around the trapdoor, she could see daylight. She turned to her mother. "I think it's morning," she whispered. "Mother? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, daughter. Morning." Her mother's voice was so weak and hoarse. "I used to love the morning. The sun. My garden…"

Her mother spoke more and more of her garden of late. Always with a faraway look in her eyes, a look that was becoming fonder the longer her mother languished. "Oh, Mother _please_. Please stay with me, I need you. Father will come soon, you'll see. We'll have our old life again, and you'll have your garden, and there'll be balls and-" Something about the glassy cast to her mother's eyes caught at Ino's throat. She could just make out the shine of them in the darkness.

Quite suddenly Ino understood that her father wasn't coming. No one was coming. She and her mother would die in this hole just as the others had. Her body would rot before it was removed, and then she'd be food for the many rats they were sometimes forced to eat.

A change took place in her as Ino finally let go of her childish notions of security. There _was_ no security in the world. It was all an illusion. Even if she were somehow miraculously returned to her old life, there was no guarantee that this wouldn't happen to her again. The things she associated with power and safety –money, prestige, her parents- none of these had stopped the men from entering her house one night and ripping her and her mother right from her father's arms. She couldn't count on anyone or anything but herself, she realized.

"Shh," she whispered to her mother's blank face. "Rest. You will have your garden again, Mother, I swear it."

There in the dark, with the whimpers of the surviving women beginning to greet the day, Ino put her mind to work.

* * *

><p>"<em>Are all the men accounted for?" <em>Hinata asked.

Kurenai dipped her head without raising her eyes. _"Patrolling the grounds. Might I add, Hinata-sama, that four men cannot adequately cover an estate of this size? The enemy can infiltrate from a dozen places, and be hiding in a dozen more."_

"_Noted," _Hinata murmured. _"What of our sisters in Hawaii?"_

"_Still mobilizing. They were awaiting further instructions after your initial telegram, but received none."_

Cursing the delay caused by the blizzard, Hinata said, _"Have they since been apprised?"_

"_Yes." _Anko answered this time. _"The trainee we brought with us is installed in the telegram office, per your command. She saw to it that Madara's agent there did not intercept the telegram to Hawaii."_

"_Excellent. See that she safeguards all communications designated for us and Uchiha Itachi."_

"_I already have, Hinata-sama."_

As the youngest one present, Tenten remained silent. The other women waited as she poured tea. She held the pot at the correct angle, filled the small cups to the correct level, and correctly offered the first cup to Hinata with a bow performed to the correct depth. She held this position as she was wordlessly critiqued.

Satisfied, Hinata took the cup. Tenten breathed an inner sigh of relief.

"_The situation worsens," _Hinata said when she'd sipped. _"Madara is slowly bleeding Itachi-san. He is gathering his forces, I can feel it. When Itachi-san is at his most vulnerable, he will strike. We must be ready."_

The women nodded. Hinata wished she had more subordinates in this country; she had long since tired of this game. Had she more power at her disposal, she would have made a pre-emptive strike against Madara and had done with it. As it was, she was without the resources to track him or locate him. She and her women would have to wait until he made his move and act then.

* * *

><p><em>Lightning<em> dropped anchor in Colón a week after starting out. It was mid afternoon, and there was a festive atmosphere on the ship; warm weather agreed with Ei and his crew, and it just felt good to be out of the city. Some went to land, each with a specific task to do, while others stayed on board to guard the ship.

-oOo-

Naruto looked up when the door to Hatake Enterprises jingled. He, Sasuke, and Gaara stared at the impossibly large man who ducked beneath the doorway, but only he sprang over the table he was sitting behind to throw himself bodily at him. "Ei!" he bellowed.

Sasuke and Gaara watched in shock as Naruto's own bulky frame was not only withstood, but caught with one arm and hefted into the air. This Ei was so broad that he made Naruto look like a child hugging his father. Gaara broke into one of his rare grins, but Sasuke lifted a hand of shock to his mouth. "Goodness. I didn't think there was anyone stronger than Naruto," Sasuke murmured.

"That is the biggest man I've ever seen," Gaara breathed. "And he's a darkie! Sir-"

"Hush, Gaara. That word is rude. You must call them negroes, as is proper."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Do you think-"

"I got bidness here," Ei boomed out when he and Naruto were done with their greetings. "But after dat I'm gone. Got me a mission." He glared around the office, where several workers were standing around staring at him. "I didn' think I'd fin' you here, Naruto. Mayhap the one I want is here too. Who be Sass-key?"

Swallowing the urge to grimace at the butchery of his name, Sasuke slowly rose to his feet. "I'm _Sasuke. _Do I know you, good man?"

Ei clumped over to him in his huge, heavy boots and reached into his loose shirt. "No, but mayhap you know Neji. He sent dis letter here. Made me stop 'specially in Panama to bring it, said I was to put it direckly into yo' hand." He thrust the leather envelope at Sasuke. "Now I's done."

Sasuke quickly undid the twine binding the envelope and unfolded the familiar stationary. His heart did a leap in his chest. "It's from Itachi!" His glad smile faded into a frown as he began reading. "Wait…he…he says there's trouble…" His eyes moved back and forth along the fine penmanship as he sank back into his chair.

Naruto looked around and saw the workers leaving the office for the day. He tugged Ei's sleeve. "Did you come in _Lightning_?"

"Sho' 'nuff. Can' come dis far south wi'out my baby. Bee here too. Guarding her."

Casting a glance at where Sasuke now sat reading with Gaara at his side, Naruto nodded toward the door. "Show me. Haven't seen that behemoth in years."

"Who, Bee or _Lightning_?"

"Both," Naruto laughed. It was a forced sound. Unless he missed his guess, shit was about to fly. _Thank God I don't have to keep it from him anymore. I'll just give him a moment, then come back._

-oOo-_  
><em>

Gaara stood at Sasuke's elbow, trying not to read over his shoulder. "Sir, is everything-"

"_Silence, Gaara!"_

Taken aback at the sharp, nearly frantic tone his master used, Gaara stepped back and said nothing else. He turned to the grimy window and looked out.

Sasuke read the entire thing, nearly a dozen pages, before taking the last three pages, folding them, and putting them into his jacket. Those seemed to dwell on some issue with Neji. The rest of the letter was what concerned him most. He focused on the remaining pages once more.

Father was dead. Mother had been abducted and hurt, and a man named Madara was to blame. He'd never heard of any Uchiha Madara. The first few pages of his brother's letter held a detailed description of this man, his crimes, his power, and how Itachi planned to kill him. There was a warning as well. Sasuke read it again now.

_He has threatened to have you murdered unless I do as he wishes, Sasuke. Above all, you must remain vigilant. Naruto knows of this situation and has been keeping you safe, but I need you to look out for yourself as well. There are men in Kakashi's camp that are Madara's spies. I'll not give in to this madman, though, rest assured. Currently, I am doing everything in my power to discover just what it is he wants. In the mean time, you are to stay away from New York. Remain as close to Naruto as possible, and remember…be careful._

Sasuke looked up alertly, as if cutthroats were converging on him at that very moment. There was only Gaara at the window, looking out intently at something. He bent his head to the letter again.

* * *

><p>Naruto spent some minutes greeting Bee, before Ei told him he could leave the ship to go ashore. He then switched to admiring <em>Lightning<em>. Ei walked up and down the decks with him, showing off changes he'd made. Sunset came, and the two men were leaning over the railing on the main deck to look out at the bustle of Colón's port. Naruto didn't feel too bad about leaving Sasuke, since he could see Kakashi's offices two blocks away, and one street over. Besides, all the men had left for the day. He badly needed to talk to Ei and get the rundown of just how bad the situation was.

"Din' expeck to find you so near the port." Ei said after awhile. "Was tol' by Neji that yo' house was a ways from yo' work but that I should ast there to get yo' direction."

"Actually," Naruto said. "You're lucky you came today. I haven't been coming to the office since receiving Neji's telegram. Figured I'd come see if my mail was being tampered with – I assume you know what's going on?"

"Sho' do." Ei ran down everything Neji had told him. "Ugly. Jus' ugly." He shook his big head.

"Shit," Naruto whistled. "You know more than I did, then. And Chouji's mother is really dead? You're sure of that?" All his men were on leave, enjoying their money just as he was.

"Tha's what Neji done tol' me. Mad'ra shot 'er a'tween the eyes."

"And you're to go down to Honolulu and rescue some lawyer's princess?"

"Not _some_ lawyer. Lawyer to dem Uchiha, what got info'mation bout whatever it is Mad'ra want. But Neji has him now, so. The lawyer, I mean, not Mad'ra."

Naruto shook his head from side to side, absently looking at one of the men he recognized from Kakashi's shop trying to board _Lightning_. He was being stonewalled by some man Ei had introduced as Omoi. "This thing is big. Whatever it is Madara wants, it's worth slaughtering men, women, and children in Japan, America, and Honolulu. No idea what it is?"

"Nope." Ei noticed the man politely asking for permission to board now, too, and frowned.

"Well, I'll be keeping Sasuke safe, you can count on that."

Ei pursed his lips in displeasure. "Guess I don't have to ast if you still itch after mens?"

Naruto gave a sardonic grin. "No, you don't."

"Unnat'ral," Ei grunted, then lifted his voice to be heard below. "Omoi. What he want?"

"Wants to be allowed to offer us refreshments on behalf of Hatake Enterprises," He turned to shout up. When he turned his back, the man shoved a thin blade into Omoi's back, withdrew it, and drove it home again. It was over before Ei could do more than begin to yell a warning.

Omoi fell off the gangplank at the same moment that a dozen more men seemed to spring up from the gathering shadows. Naruto, who'd made no sound, calmly withdrew a gun from his shirt, cocked it, and blasted off the head of the first man to appear over the ship's railing. Ei crushed the head of another with a blow from his arm, and then he was bawling at the top of his lungs, "Attaaack!"

Naruto had a moment to notice how the wharf suddenly seemed to empty, before he was taking on three men at once. He saw dynamite in one man's hand and went for him instead.

* * *

><p>"Sir?"<p>

"Not now, Gaara."

"Sir?"

"Gaara, _please_. Give me a moment."

"_Sir?"_

* * *

><p>Bee ran into Kakashi on his way back to <em>Lightning<em>. "My goodness!" Kakashi exclaimed. "I'd heard a ship called _Lightning_ had docked, and couldn't believe it was you. I haven't seen you or Ei in years! What brings you to Panama?"

"Neji said I could trust you," Bee confided. "Truth is, there's trouble. Ei and I are on our way to-"

At that moment two explosions rocked the port, one ahead of them and one a few streets away. Bee picked his head up from where he'd thrown himself on the ground, and saw only fire where _Lightning_ should be. "No," he breathed. "No. No, no, no…_Ei_!"

_Lightning _was burning, going up in a conflagration that rivaled the sunset, but Kakashi was staggering in the direction of the other explosion. The smoke billowing up into the orange sky looked like it was directly over his offices.

* * *

><p>It was ironic, really. For the first week after the blizzard, the manor ran smoothly as far as staff went. Neji hired a slew of dirt-cheap Chinese workers. They were silent, diligent, and never made mistakes. Hinata spoke their language and oversaw them initially, but then relegated the task to Mikoto. This left Shibi, Shikaku, and Gai free to patrol the grounds. Itachi asked Gai if the protection couldn't better be used in the house, at which point he'd been informed that Neji had said the house was protected. Itachi would have liked to know by whom, since the only ones left in the house now were himself, Inoichi, and the women. And the servants. The servants were frightened little mice who scurried about. And Hinata's women seemed much like Hinata herself; poised, pretty, and refined. Where was all this protection? Neji himself saw to it that he remained occupied outside the manor, for the most part.<p>

However, that was where Itachi's luck ended. He found himself in debt, with mouths to feed, a house to run, and no prospects for an income from any quarter. He'd finally asked his mother if she'd left any jewelry in her room on the third floor, at which point she'd immediately protested. The door to the master suite had been unblocked, and Itachi had been able to locate quite a bit of jewelry. He'd sold it and managed to pay off his creditors, which was good. He'd be allowed to visit shops for food and other such staples, but now he had nothing to buy these necessities with. Stiff with shame and rage, he told Inoichi to find buyers for the many artworks hung around the manor…and to sell the China and silver. They'd make do with lesser quality utensils, the ones normally reserved for the staff.

-oOo-

March arrived with no real change in the weather.

Itachi continued to wrack his brains and search his files for some clue as to what Madara could be after, but he always came up empty. Inoichi fared no better, and announced that his office had been looted of all paperwork, even the cases and documents pertaining to other clients. Suigetsu was nowhere to be found. "And your bank accounts have been completely shut down," he reported. "As far as they're concerned, they have no record of Uchiha Itachi ever having done business with them."

It was just one more thing Itachi dealt with. A small thing, compared to the more immediate problem of his dwindling cash.

He glanced out his office window as Inoichi reported something else, toward the stables, and wondered how much the horses would sell for. The cost of keeping them had never seemed so exorbitant before.

"Sir, did you hear what I said?" Inoichi asked after a moment.

Neji was walking along the one of the paths outside, the one leading from the carriage house to the stables. Itachi had seen him periodically during the days since their lunch. Once or twice he even received a report from him on some matter out of necessity. Itachi always managed to behave civilly, and keep his face composed with the proper detachment one showed to a menial whenever he was forced to be in Neji's presence. Even with his innards burning at the effort, he never responded to anything Neji said, or even looked at him directly. Mindful of Neji's parting words at that lunch, he never sought the man out. It was always Neji who needed to impart some news, and they both new that he only did so because he was sometimes forced to. Otherwise, Neji relayed all information through Inoichi.

"Sir?"

He watched until Neji was out of sight, before turning. "My apologies. What were you saying?"

Though he was looking directly at the man, Itachi still couldn't hear or understand Inoichi's words.

He personally thought that Neji was the most ill-bred, boorish, and insubordinate bastard he'd ever had the misfortune to meet. He'd told Inoichi that if Neji was no longer assistant to the lord of the manor, and no longer manservant, that he could bloody well see that Neji left his property. Inoichi had presumably presented this message to Neji, because he came back and said, "I've been instructed to tell you that Neji is now here under his own volition, and will see you protected from the threat of Madara regardless to what you say. He eats with his own coin and is willing to pay you rent for the rooms he uses above the carriage house. And if you want him gone so badly, he says, come and throw him off the grounds yourself. His words, not mine, sir."

Itachi had added sanctimonious and swine to the list of Neji's faults.

It wouldn't have been so bad if the kiss wasn't between them now. And if he didn't see Neji in the halls or whenever the man made his rounds outside, in addition to the odd report. It was one thing to make a decision to leave a subject alone, Itachi seethed. Quite another to hold to the decision when the subject was thrown in your face every other hour.

"Sir?"

"_What_."

Inoichi lowered his head. Seeing this, Itachi briefly closed his eyes in a bid for some measure of control. "I apologize, Inoichi-"

"No need to, sir."

"No, I really must. That was unforgivably rude-"

"It's understandable, with the amount of stress you're-"

"_Inoichi_. What did you want to say?"

"I've said it. But I was about to conclude with this letter that was delivered." He withdrew an envelope from his inner jacket pocket and passed it to Itachi, who took it and studied it.

"The stamp says Plattsburgh, New York." He turned the letter over, then looked up. "When did this arrive?"

"An hour ago, by postman."

"My name is on it, but I don't know anyone in Plattsburgh…or where that city is even located. Do you?"

"No, but I can find out, if you wish."

"Please." He was absently aware of Inoichi excusing himself as he continued to stare at the envelope.

The handwriting was barely legible, written as if the writer had only the vaguest understanding of the English language. His name and address sprawled in wobbly script across the front of the envelope, but there was no return address. Cautious and curious, he turned the envelope over again and opened it.

Inside was a single line of the same untidy handwriting:

_March payment no here. What do? I wait in Clinton until April._

Itachi almost laughed outright. The person _did_ only have the vaguest understanding of the language. No greeting, no date, no signature… Who was this? He read the letter several times, wondering if he'd received it in error, but no, that was his name on the envelope. Uchiha Itachi.

Almost by accident, he came across a small mark down in the lower right hand corner of the small sheet of paper. His thumb had been covering it. He only saw it when he turned the letter over to see if the back contained anything. Bringing the letter to his face, he studied the mark intently.

"I've seen this mark before," he mused quietly. "The question is where?"

He read the letter again, and this time the word Clinton jumped out at him. He stared at it for a long time.

-oOo-

By the time Inoichi came back, Itachi was feverishly going through the files and records he'd sifted through a thousand times before. "It's here, I know it is," he muttered.

Inoichi frowned. "Sir? I have that information…" He held up a map of New York State. "What are you doing?"

Itachi thrust the letter at him.

Inoichi read it. "The language is poor, but…this town or city…haven't we seen it before somewhere?"

"Yes." Itachi threw aside a sheaf of records that didn't contain the name, scattering them over the floor. He was making a mess, his neat ponytail coming undone, as he reached for another pile. "I've seen that word in these records, I'm sure of it. If I could only find _where_."

Thirty minutes later Itachi stood with the record in hand. "It's a house," he said, breathing still unsteady. "A house in the small town of Clinton." He looked up at Inoichi. "I don't know of any house there. Father never mentioned one. Where is Clinton, do you know?"

Inoichi took up the map he'd set aside when he'd helped Itachi search. "As a matter of fact. Clinton is close to Plattsburgh, which is right here near the border of Canada."

"Canada! So far?"

"Yes." He studied the record of the bill of sale. "Itachi, this house was purchased 14 years ago."

Their eyes met.

Itachi slowly sank into his chair and leaned back. "That's around the time Father came back from Japan."

"Do you recall when he came back precisely? Or anything else from that time?" Inoichi also sat, removing a stack of papers from his chair to do so.

Itachi thought. "I think it was May of that year. Eighteen eighty-eight, was it? He was home when Sasuke and I returned from school for our summer holidays that year. I seem to recall receiving a letter from him saying that he was returned. In any case, he'd left in March or April the previous year. March. Early March, in fact. I remember there being snow on the ground when Sasuke and I said our farewells, like there is now."

Inoichi gravely held up the bill of sale. "This purchase was made May 28th, a Monday."

"And…what? Father has been paying for the place ever since? The purchase was an outright one, paid in full."

"I don't know, but likely whatever your father was paying for was done so on the first of every month."

It was now Wednesday, March 5th. "I see." Flashes went off in Itachi's mind as a few things came together at last. "In fact, I see very well."

"Do you? I must confess that I don't."

"I don't see the whole picture, but it is slowly becoming clearer. Tell me, do you remember that purchase? As his lawyer, you would have handled it, correct?"

"Not necessarily. It's more likely that your father spoke to his banker to ensure that payment was delivered every month."

"Ah, but see, whatever or whoever is at this address was being paid through _my_ account. This record of sale is in the things that came with _my_ inheritance. Father couldn't have known he was about to be overthrown; he wouldn't have had time to arrange matters accordingly before Madara took him, which means I have been unknowingly paying whoever is at this address since I inherited three years ago. Payment stopped when Madara froze my account and robbed me, and this person knew to contact _me_, not my father."

"How can this person know to contact you, but you yourself not know of this transaction or that you were paying them?"

"Simple. My banker pays for a lot of business-related things in my name. I imagine it was a simple matter for father to instruct the man not to inform me of this one monthly bill. It couldn't have been too great a sum, or I would have noticed it."

Inoichi struggled to understand. "So your father bought a house, buried the bill of sale in your portion of the inheritance, yet continued to monitor it after you'd inherited?"

"Yes. That sounds accurate."

"But it still does not explain why this person contacted you, not your father…if it was your father dealing with them. Or why this person knows of you but is obviously keeping their identity secret. Do you think they know something happened to your father?"

"I don't know. Perhaps father told the individual to contact me in case something went wrong with the payments. That sounds about right. I can imagine father anticipating that the only reason payment would stop would be if something happened to him. I don't know for sure. And anyway, payment stopped long after something happened to him. What I do know is that this…Inoichi, _this_ might be what we were looking for. I've seen that record dozens of times and never paid it any mind. Lord knows, we have houses in several states, as well as Abroad. By itself the record is nothing, but coupled with that mark-"

"What mark?"

"That mark your hand is covering. I've seen that mark before. Here, recently. I think that whoever is at that address must be safeguarding the object Father took from Madara. The legacy. The dates fit."

Inoichi's face brightened into an expression of fierce triumph. "_At_ _last_. We must go there at once, then!"

Itachi leaned forward on his desk. "I agree. I will pack a bag tonight, and we will leave in the morning."

"Just the two of us?"

"Yes. In secret. If Madara comes to the house, he need never know where we went."

"Very good, sir."

Itachi suddenly felt a hundred pounds lighter. He laughed. "Do you realize that by cutting me off, Madara might have handed me the very thing he is looking for? Ah, I feel very fine, very fine indeed, Inoichi. I think I'll go for a ride."

Inoichi watched him leave, and smiled.

* * *

><p>Johnson gathered the slips of paper, put them in order of their arrival, then went out to the front of the offices. "Got two telegrams for Uchiha Manor here need delivering," he announced. "Baker back yet?"<p>

Lewis was a relatively new employee. He stood up now. "Not yet, sir, but I'll take those over if you want."

A young boy, also a recent employee, but one who worked for a penny a day, stood up as well. "No, me! Please sir, me!"

Johnson eyed him. His large floppy newsboy cap was pulled low over his dirty face, and his baggy clothes were tattered. "Naw. Uchiha are rich, they won't let you onto their property looking like that. You can make the deliveries around here, but Lewis should take these to the manor. Sorry kid."

Johnson handed the telegrams over to Lewis as the boy drooped back to the empty barrel he'd been sitting on. Lewis ran out back, where the horses they used to make their farther deliveries were kept, and jumped onto his chestnut. Part of the reason he even had this job was because he had his own horse. The other reason was best not talked about; he was sure no one would discover the body of his predecessor, not where he'd hidden it, but all the same, best to forget the matter.

Nabs whickered at seeing him. He gave her a brief pat on the nose before swinging into the saddle, then gave a careful glance around. Alone, he took out the telegrams and read them.

One was in Japanese. That was no problem, since his name wasn't really Lewis. It was Deidara. He'd been living in this country long enough to speak with an American accent, but he was Japanese. The other telegram was the very one Madara wanted delivered to Itachi. The Japanese one was all the way from Japan, news about Hyuuga. He stared at it for a long time. Madara hadn't said he was expecting anything from Japan, or to withhold anything from there. Just to make sure Sasuke and Naruto didn't contact Itachi. Still, better safe than sorry. He crushed the Japanese note and dropped it aside, then reigned Nabs toward the Uchiha Manor, some 25 miles outside Manhattan.

* * *

><p>"Madara-sama? Sir?"<p>

Madara roused himself from pleasant dreams of warmth and victory to find Kabuto holding a bowl of food out to him. He took it gratefully, and began eating. Now that he was firmly on the road to recovery, his appetite had never been stronger. "What news?" he said when he'd swallowed several bites.

"The situation in Panama has been handled," Kabuto reported quietly. "And…Konan has arrived."

Just as Kabuto held back his shiver at having to say that name, Madara likewise felt a flutter in his belly. Her name halted his chopsticks just short of his mouth, and the oil lamp flickered briefly in an errant gust of wind. Then the moment passed, and he resumed eating.

Konan. Many thought Nagato was his second in command, but it was Konan. He didn't know another soul more deadly than she was, more ruthless, or more impossible to predict and control. He had recruited her specifically, but he had no illusions as to why she'd consented to join him. It was that or risk being unaffiliated, and that was something she couldn't afford. It was the only thing that kept him safe in her presence.

"Where is she?" he asked when he could swallow properly.

"In the outer room. Shall I send her in?"

"No." Then, because he _was_ the leader after all, he corrected himself. "Yes. When I'm done here."

Kabuto bowed himself out of the room.

-oOo-

Madara cleaned his bowl of every grain of rice, and licked the chopsticks clean. He made a production of moving himself to the low cushions across the room and straightening his clothes before forcibly making himself go still. Then, and only then, did he call for the shadowy figure kneeling outside the specially imported sliding door to enter.

Konan did so, gliding in and kneeling again before him. _Only she can kneel in Western clothes and make the gesture as effortless as if she were wrapped in her finest kimono, _Madara thought. He waited until she'd lifted herself from her bow, before returning it. "I trust your journey was safe?"

Konan's flinty golden eyes never ceased to unnerve him, and they did so now. "I was delayed by the blizzard. Madara, what have you done?"

Another thing he detested about her, the way she consistently called attention to the fact that though aligned to him, she did not serve him. Still, that tone could not go unaddressed. He let his stiff expression rebuke her.

But it seemed Konan was in no mood to observe the niceties. "Tell me you do not have Hyuuga Hanabi and Hyuuga Hiashi hostage in Japan," she said quietly.

He knew a moment of confusion. "Who?"

Konan inhaled slowly through her nose. "Allow me to begin at the beginning, as I see your recent illness has dulled your mind. When you sent for me, you told me there was a woman in the Uchiha manor, one you felt I would know. A spider. Is that correct?"

Madara thought back to the night he'd arrived at Uchiha Manor. The following morning he'd met Hinata and had immediately been suspicious of her. He'd sent a telegram that very day, requesting Konan meet him and deal with her. "Yes. I suspected that she was one of the Silken Web, as you used to be."

"Her name, Madara. You gave me no name then. Is her name Hyuuga Hinata?"

"Yes."

"And you sent news to Japan to that effect?"

"I made mention to all of my contacts of the situation once I'd infiltrated the manor, and requested anyone to send me information on the Hyuuga in question, should they have it."

"But you gave no order for Hyuuga Hanabi or her father to be taken from their homes and held?"

"No…but my men know my procedures. Anyone who opposes me automatically has their relatives seized, in case I need leverage. I'd planned to send a telegram to that end, but the blizzard sprang up…" he trailed off at seeing Konan's eyes narrow. "What is it? That Hinata is the same as you, isn't she, trained by the Mother of the Silken Web?" In which case she was every bit as lethal as Konan.

"Hyuuga Hinata _is_ the Mother of the Silken Web," Konan hissed, now vibrating where she knelt. "She is _Kumo_, The Spider. And you have taken the only thing I have ever known her to care about. I only heard of it because I make it my business to keep apprised of matters in Japan. I knew of Hinata's exile, but assumed it was a ruse. No one exiles _Kumo_."

The spurt of excitement he felt at knowing _Kumo's_ identity –knowledge held only by the Silken Web, and thus of the utmost secrecy- was completely eclipsed by the sudden rush of horror that chilled him. He felt as if he had the frostbite again, so numb were his limbs at hearing this. "No," he whispered. "No, I did not order that…but wait!" Hope bloomed in a warm cloud over him. "News can't have reached her yet, can it?"

"If it has reached me, it has reached her."

"No. No. I have a man in the telegram office, he won't let any message for Uchiha Manor pass that I have not authorized."

"For your sake, I hope that is the case."

"Still, there should be another telegram arriving there shortly. I will make my move then, when Itachi is vulnerable. You must come with me. I sent some boys to the manor on the pretext of shoveling snow. They were to discover the situation there. I'm told Hinata has called more of the Silken Web to her. Three."

Konan detested Western attire. Too constricting, and her fans did not complement the ensembles. Now was a perfect instance in where her fan would be ideal; moving it would give her a graceful way to stall while she thought up a suitable reply, one that would sound plausible while allowing her to save face. As it was, she was forced to fold her hands in the distasteful way American women did, and leave her face exposed.

"I don't think that is wise."

"Why?"

"For the same reason that I am aligned to your organization: To be within sight of The Spider, after being dismissed, after being warned to keep my distance, would be to send myself Onward. I will not fight her."

"You mean you _can't_ fight her," Madara breathed in a wondering voice. He'd never thought to see the day where he would have an advantage over Konan. "You fear her."

"As do you."

"But you are trained in her arts."

"And she has three spiders with her! You do not even know for sure if the message regarding her sister and father has been destroyed. If it wasn't, and you show your face, that is the end of Akatsuki. Even running, she will find you and anyone who so much as knows your name. You will pray for death if she finds you. How you survived her presence at all is proof that she toyed with you. Likely, she wanted the chance to humiliate you and watch you lose all face before she finished you. Go to Uchiha Manor? No."

"Either you participate in the assault to retrieve my legacy, or I will hand you to her myself in exchange for immunity from persecution from the Silken Web."

Konan allowed a sneer to mar the perfect smoothness of her face. "You think she wants me? If she did, I would be dead. I am less than a grain of rice to her. Useless as a bargaining chip."

"I will take my chances."

"Need I remind you that you do not command me? No man does."

The chill in the room intensified. Madara made a show of adjusting his lap robe. "You must come," he said more quietly. More respectfully. "Think, Konan. If you bested Hinata, _Kumo_, you could then take over the Silken Web, couldn't you? Victory is within my grasp!"

"_Defeat_ is within your grasp. Four spiders, one of them _Kumo_ herself, and you think to walk away from the fight." Besides which, the title of _Kumo_ was only passed on from the previous holder of the name.

"Can you insinuate yourself into her good graces again, then? Spy for me? Konan, you are my most capable subordinate, you _must_ offer a solution." He'd been counting on her more than he realized.

Konan looked aside as she thought. "Pour tea."

Madara suffered the indignity of serving her, but if it would soften her to his cause, he would even put the cup to her lips. There was silence for a long time as the modest ceremony was observed. At last he sensed her ire leaving her as her mind took over.

"You must be sure," Konan murmured around the rim of her cup. "You must be sure no word of _Kumo's_ relatives has reached her. If it has, and if you would still have Itachi, whom I presume is your target-"

Madara nodded.

"-then timing will be everything. She might not know I am here, since her spiders in this country are very few…then again, there is very little she does not know. If she doesn't know, then I must enter the manor and subdue her before she's aware. Your men must distract her and her spiders long enough for me to do this."

"_Can_ you do it?"

In truth she didn't know. But the chance to revenge herself on the woman she'd loved beyond life and honor…the chance to repay Hinata for dismissing her... she would take the risk, if she had the means. "How many men do you have?"

"Here in New York, fifty. That is excluding officials in my pocket. Bear in mind, I have now reduced Itachi to the same state he reduced me. He is without funds, food, and soon without shelter. We should overwhelm him easily."

"Fifty might be enough. If they are trained."

"Bring me Itachi. If they all die in the attempt, but I have Itachi, then the losses are acceptable."

Konan did not reply to that. "Send a man to check on the message," was all she said. "Then we will see."

* * *

><p>He was meticulous about blending in, even when there was no one around. To that end, Deidara whistled a bawdy Yankee tune, even though the dirt road he was on was deserted in both directions. Between his own noise and Nabs's clip-clopping hooves, it was little wonder that he didn't hear anyone approaching. When the little donkey stumbled out of the bushes bordering the left side of the road right in front of him, he was as surprised as his horse was.<p>

It was the kid from the office, Deidara saw. The boy. He looked flushed and sweaty, even though the weather was still cold, and the donkey looked downright furious at being ridden so hard. Deidara reigned to a halt. "What are you doing here?" He tried to remember the kid's name. He thought it might be Bo or Joe.

"I'll take those telegrams to the Uchiha, thanks." Bo or Joe climbed off his donkey and walked toward Nabs.

Deidara grinned. "Ha. Don't think so. Scram." He jerked the reigns to the right, meaning to go around the boy.

Nabs screamed and lurched, then went down kicking. Deidara went down with her, his leg pinned beneath her thrashing body. It was many moments before his mind cleared enough to understand what had happened, but by then he was aware of the heavy stench of blood. He opened bleary eyes and focused on where Bo or Joe was calmly walking around Nabs's head. He stood looking down at Deidara with unreadable black eyes.

The boy's right hand was red to the elbow. The hand itself held a long, steel spike. Judging by the warm spray of blood that splashed Deidara each time Nabs shook her head, this spike must have been jabbed into her neck. Her movements gradually slowed and stilled, and then the road was silent. The boy did not speak again.

Deidara, still stunned from where he'd hit his head, nevertheless did put up a fight when Bo or Joe moved toward him. He grabbed hold of one skinny ankle, then felt and heard a sharp crack as the bones in his arm were broken with a single blow of one rock-like fist. _I'm in trouble,_ he thought wildly. His head was grabbed by its ponytail. He did not feel the spike driving into the base of his skull. All he saw was the far side of the road lined with bushes, and this scene going black.

The boy searched the body with his clean hand until he found the telegram. He put it carefully into his pocket, along side the one he'd seen Lewis throw away, and was on his way to Uchiha Manor a moment later.

* * *

><p>Itachi came back from his vigorous ride in the land surrounding his energized and upbeat. He handed his horse to one of the new Chinese grooms and stepped smartly along the path leading to the house. He was starving. Deciding to tell the new cook to serve him lunch immediately, he detoured to the servants entrance round the back of the house.<p>

There was a door with a short vestibule here that led to the hall the servants used, and then on to the kitchen and modest servants' quarters. Itachi entered this door and came face to face with Neji, who was about to exit it.

For what seemed like a long time, they stood frozen. There were three steps leading up from the vestibule door to the hallway beyond. Neji stood on these steps, intensifying his height advantage over Itachi. Black was locked on gray, and vice versa.

A curious thing happened to Itachi. The euphoria he was feeling from getting a break in the puzzle of what Madara wanted, combined with his lingering exhilaration from his ride, now smoothly transformed into the essence of his complicated feelings for Neji. Heat spread through him. He'd been careful not to seek Neji out since their kiss, and truthfully, he'd been afraid to run into him alone, afraid of what would happen. Yet in the back of mind had lurked the reminder of Neji's admonishment. That if Itachi _did_ seek him out, it had better be for the truth.

He wasn't seeking him out now, but he'd be damned if he ran away. He stepped further inside and let the door swing shut behind him. He was now directly below Neji, who stood staring down at him like a god would stare at a mortal.

-oOo-

Neji at first couldn't breathe. He'd had his head down as he was exiting, and so hadn't seen Itachi approaching. To be suddenly confronted with him after his embarrassing lapse at that lunch drove the air from his lungs.

He'd more or less tried to avoid just such a confrontation, but now that one had occurred despite his best efforts, he wanted something clarified.

Ever since that kiss, Itachi had treated him the way one treated dirt on their shoe. He didn't speak to Neji, look at him, acknowledge him, or ask about him in anyway. Other than the one time he'd sent Inoichi to tell him to leave, Neji could believe that Itachi had forgotten about him. He'd sent back that outrageous reply in the hopes of provoking Itachi into an argument. He hadn't sought confrontations, but he _had_ wanted what was between them out in the open again, instead of swept under the rug as it now seemed to be. Every time he was in the man's presence now it was as if Neji didn't exist.

But he remembered the kiss. The fire of it.

And Itachi was looking at him directly now, as if he _did_ exist and his existence was important. He just wanted a point clarified, wanted to know if he'd imagined Itachi's response to the kiss or if the man really saw him as nothing.

-oOo-

Moving deliberately, he descended so that he was only one step above Itachi, bringing their bodies within an inch of each other. Just as slowly, and holding Itachi's gaze the entire time, he reached out and curled one arm around the shorter man. Itachi stiffened, but Neji kept his arm around him, and pulled him in until they were pressed to each other. Just this, and already his body surged to life. It was the need to fuck. That simple imperative, quite outside his feelings for Itachi, almost had him tearing the man's clothes off. Neji controlled himself. He waited a moment, to see if there'd be resistance, but there was none.

Itachi's face was alert, his eyes roving over Neji's features, but there was no protest. And then his hand dropped to the arm Neji had around his waist and remained there, not pushing it away.

Neji slowly lifted him, binging his head down in the process, so that he and Itachi were exchanging breaths. A second kiss waited to happen, hovering and trembling between the scant half inch separating their lips.

Itachi wanted it, he decided. The shocking, sizzling contact of the length of Neji's body, the arm, his lingering good feelings from earlier…all of this suddenly translated into an all-powerful, all-consuming desire for one more taste of Neji. Just one more. One more, and then he would put the matter to rest at last and have peace. Just one…little…taste. He moved his head forward.

Neji turned and set Itachi smartly on his heels on the steps, neatly switching their places. The look on his face when he roughly pulled out of the embrace said it all; he had nothing but contempt for Itachi's hypocrisy. He turned and left, slamming the vestibule door hard enough to rattle the panes of glass in it.

Itachi stood much as he had the last time Neji had stormed away from him, with his heart pounding, and feelings careening through him. The difference this time was that anger surface quickly and neatly drowned whatever he'd been feeling. He drew back his foot and crashed it into the door Neji had just used. The glass shattered completely, but the door itself flew off its hinges to land on the walkway outside. He stood there, breathing heavily, and contemplating the wisdom of wringing Neji's neck.

Behind him, Mikoto had seen the entire exchange. Hand to her mouth, she quietly turned and made her way back to her room.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I'm surprised so many of you thought Mikoto would confront Itachi. That's not her style. And I'm REALLY surprised that none of you remembered that Neji had sent two telegrams to Panama at the beginning of this fic. They were mentioned in chapters 1 and 3.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 10<span>

Hinata was sewing when Mikoto entered the room. She didn't disturb her, only went to one of the room's cushy chintz-upholstered chairs and sat down.

Even so, Hinata read her mood perfectly without looking up. _"What troubles you, Mikoto-san?"_

There was no question of not answering, but Mikoto rather thought the truth too absurd to mention. Especially given the fact that Hinata's own cousin was involved. She didn't see a plausible alternative though, and was fearful of lying to the woman. Hinata seemed able to spot a lie at a thousand paces. _"I…saw something."_

"_Do tell. This stitch is tedious, and I am in need of a diversion." _She set her sewing aside, and instead picked up her fan. She looked at Mikoto expectantly.

Mikoto worried the folds of her skirt a moment. "_I saw my son and Neji embracing. It seemed…well, it seemed as if…" _She had no words for how it had seemed._ "But that…I must have misinterpreted it. My son would never behave that way."_

Hinata smiled. "_Is that all? Well, it seems both your sons behave that way. What is so wrong with that?"_

"_Everything! That kind of deviant behavior is against God and nature. And I'm sorry, but I don't believe it of my children. Fugaku caned that out of Sasuke. He wouldn't revert to such behavior again, no matter what you and Madara say. And Itachi, my perfect son. Never. Never would he lust after some man. There is no joy in the act when it is performed correctly, how can there possibly be any with two people of the same sex?"_ Mikoto was breathing hard after this heated assertion of her views. _"It is clear that Neji must want my son, and Itachi rebuffed his advances. That must have been what I saw. Itachi was quite violent afterward."_

Hinata slowly stood up and made her way across the room, where she locked the door. She turned and regarded the older woman with a thoughtful expression.

It had long been her intention to complete Mikoto's subjugation with a physical demonstration. The woman wasn't unattractive, and it would serve to put her firmly, once and for all, under Hinata's rule. Hearing that Mikoto had never experienced the earthly pleasures of the flesh, something she'd long suspected anyway, only meant that she would fall that much harder for the pleasure Hinata would shortly give her. Once experienced, Mikoto would be hers completely, outside of fear, to do with as she wished.

"_I have always believed," _Hinata purred as she swayed away from the door, _"that it takes a woman to know a woman's body. Please stand, Mikoto-san."_

Mikoto stood automatically. _"I don't understand."_

"_Just as it takes a man to know a man's body. Men and women can and do get on quite well together, but each soul has their own preferences, and this has always been understood in Japan. For myself, I prefer women." _By now she'd reached Mikoto and continued to walk, backing the shorter woman up until she hit the wall with a soft bump. _"Allow me to show you,"_ she said as she pressed herself against Mikoto. Her hand lowered to the waist of the older woman's skirt.

"_What…what are you doing? Oh…no, Hinata you mustn't…mustn't touch me there…No, let go of me, oh…oh…ooh!"_

* * *

><p>Itachi went directly to his room and slammed the door shut. He spent twenty minutes prowling back and forth, before what control he had snapped completely.<p>

He knocked over an end table, threw a lamp, and sent a footstool hurtling toward the wall, where it gouged out a sizable hole in the plaster. Now completely mad, he turned and hefted his heavy armchair high over his head and threw that too. It cracked against the fireplace, where a chunk of the mantle was also sheared off. He then went to his bed and ripped the hangings free. He tore them, threw them, clawed the quilt and sheets off the bed and flung them wide. The mattress was huge and far heavier than the armchair. In a display of fury that ripped the seams of his jacket and shirt, he gripped the mattress hard in both hands and slung it all the way across the room. He wasn't done. He kicked repeatedly at one bedpost, kicked the way his father taught him, kicked until the solid mahogany splintered and finally cracked. He took up this thick club and hurled it with all the strength in his arm. It went sailing through one the windows in a tinkling of glass.

Tempers were rare things for Uchiha men, but they had them. And when in the grip of them, the violence that ensued was often memorable, bloody, or exceedingly destructive. Fugaku's rages had been sudden and sharp. Once indulged, they were quickly gone. Sasuke's were slow to kindle, but once ignited, took years to fade. His grudges were legendary to their acquaintances, and often his rage manifested itself in a steady, unyielding sort of fury that was mostly silent.

Itachi was something of a combination of his father and brother. His fury tended to be slow in building, but once built to its full peak, it was nothing short of volcanic. One could even say that it was worse than his father's; Itachi was able to sustain his explosively violent anger for long periods of time, seeing nothing but the object of his wrath until he'd exacted some measure of justice. Sasuke had only ever seen his brother in a rage once, and had rightly feared it since. Fugaku had seen it often in Itachi's youth, before he could speak properly, and it was this that had given him hope for a fierce son.

* * *

><p>Neji stalked until he was out of sight of the manor. He was still on Uchiha property, but now he was surrounded by hills and trees. He stood rigidly, hands fisted, thinking.<p>

"Son of a bitch," he breathed. He could barely get the oath out, so tight was his chest. Breathing hurt. He wanted to turn around and throw Itachi down, to break him, to bend him to his will, to make him set aside his insufferable pride just once. Itachi wanted him, but was too tightly laced to give into it unless Neji approached him in some physical way.

It was only recently, since the kiss, that Neji realized he had unconsciously believed that Itachi was like his brother. Sasuke was willing with Naruto, he knew that. Sasuke accepted the fact that he wanted men. Even living with Itachi for over a year now, Neji had never understood just how fundamentally different the brothers were. At first glance they were exactly alike. Both were well-bred, rich, snobbish, entitled, stuck-up sticklers for their vaunted positions in society. Superior to a fault. The difference was that for Sasuke, it was a persona he wore out of necessity, something he could take off and put on as the situation suited. For Itachi, he _was_ that person. It was who he was, in his blood.

Well, then. That changed everything. Neji remembered well what he'd seen Sasuke go through the year he and Naruto were separated. And he remembered hearing of what Naruto had suffered. He wasn't likely to react the way either of them had if his heart got broken, but he wasn't going to wait around to find out either. His feelings were already involved, so he _would_ be taking _some_ scars with him, but he'd be damned if he lingered here to be treated like shit by some prick who couldn't be bothered to be honest. And who obviously didn't want him enough to try.

He loved Itachi, but he didn't owe him anything. It was a hard truth to swallow, but there it was. He'd stayed because he'd been too besotted to leave, but fuck it. _And fuck you, Itachi. I have my limits._ He turned to go back to the manor. Maybe it was wrong of him to pick up and leave in the middle of a crisis like this, but he was done.

A thought came to him, one that had him reconsidering: Itachi was Sasuke's brother. Sasuke was Naruto's lover, and Naruto was his best friend. If he left Itachi, and Itachi got killed, then Sasuke would be hurt. And if Sasuke was hurt by Neji's actions, Naruto would hunt Neji down and tear him apart. _I can handle Naruto, _he thought uneasily. Then he sighed. _Admit it, you don't want to leave. _"But I don't want to stay either," he muttered to himself. "I can't _take_ this anymore."

* * *

><p>Tenten wandered the manor, bored, but alert as she was supposed to be. She knew all the rooms by heart now, and found herself outside a set of closed sliding doors she knew belonged to a training room of sorts. She was not allowed to explore as much as she'd like, but she had found the room again and again, longing to handle the many weapons lining the walls.<p>

From what she understood, Uchiha Fugaku had trained his sons here. The room was always empty. Coming upon the doors now, she was therefore surprised to hear grunts and panting coming from the other side. Cautiously sliding one of the doors aside, she took a peek.

There was a topless, glistening man in the room with dark hair spilling around his muscled shoulders that Tenten would never have believed was Itachi. His body was a lot more defined than his clothing ever showed. The lean muscles rippled now, drenched in sweat, as he worked through forms she recognized as ancient and technically correct, if not particularly modern. She saw several openings where she could have killed him, just in the three minutes she stood watching him. She watched a bit longer, briefly fixated on the way sweat flew from the ends of his hair every time he executed a turn or thrust.

-oOo-

He had no idea when he'd come down to the training room, nor any memory of taking up the sword he was wielding. When in the grip of his rage, Itachi's mind was usually mercifully blank. Not so this time. Neji's face, Neji's _sneer, _danced in his thoughts, mocking him. It was all he saw.

Neji had humiliated him. Tricked him, and humiliated him. Worse, far worse, he'd made him show how much he wanted Neji…that his air of indifference was a façade. And in succumbing to that one moment, Itachi had humiliated _himself_.

He'd never before wanted something he couldn't have, and had never felt inadequate or that anything he did was inappropriate. He had never been interested in men, and wasn't interested in them now. He understood none of this, didn't even recognize himself anymore.

He'd never been confused or unsure or afraid of himself and his feelings. Never had his own thoughts seemed so foreign to him, never had his emotions shamed him.

No one, ever, had possessed the gall to treat him as Neji treated him, with such disrespect and condescension. _Never_, had any one person incited him to such violence.

And he had never wanted someone so much.

Itachi had this thought at the precise moment that he whirled to bring his sword down in a two-handed grip against an imaginary foe. The shock of his blade meeting steel stopped him as much as the thought did. The loud clang that shivered along his arms was no more arresting than the clang of the realization that he wanted Neji physically. Both had him frozen for a suspended moment in time.

He saw that it was the girl called Tenten who held the sword blocking his, and dismissed that knowledge as he spun away. Slipping into the forms once more, Tenten copied him, flowed with him and against him as his blade met hers again and again, but he saw and heard none of this.

He wanted Neji.

His rage left him as suddenly as it had come, and left behind the relatively ordered and logical atmosphere his mind normally enjoyed. He was not calm, not by any means, but now he was merely angry. He was still in a coil he found distasteful, and Neji still needed to be dealt with one way or the other, but now at least he could think.

He now understood what Neji had meant by the word want. At least he thought he did. If it was anything like what he himself was feeling, then by want, Neji had meant a complete and uninhibited sharing of body, emotions, and spirit.

Itachi wondered if this was love. He'd never been in love, and truthfully had not expected to ever feel the emotion for anyone outside his brother. While his body parried and thrust automatically, he took a moment to analyze this possibility. Several moments. He remembered Sasuke's description of loving Naruto, which was something he hadn't understood at the time. Nor had he understood the pleasure Sasuke had described. He now had a tiny inkling of what Sasuke had meant, if the kiss he and Neji had shared was any indication. Not all the couplings he'd had with Karin could equal that single kiss. He was astute enough now to realize that it hadn't been the kiss itself he'd found intoxicating, so much as Neji. The move he used to block a swing at his neck faltered as he considered that. It seemed Sasuke had been right, and loving someone made all the difference when you touched them. It made you _want_ to touch them.

What he knew of love could fit into a tea cup, he decided. He had it classified as something predominantly experienced by females, something…flowery, and oozing sentimentality. Something he had no use for, in other words, but that wasn't how he felt. True, he'd entertained ignorant notions of courting Neji exactly as he would have courted a woman. Now that he was aware, he could sympathize with Neji's reaction. Love, at least as far as what he was feeling, wasn't about walks and teas, or hand-holding. If he had to describe it, he would say that love felt very much like being in one of his rages. Wild and hot and uncontrollable. Something that was immediate and demanding, but that didn't fade the way his rages did.

Itachi didn't like things he couldn't control. He preferred order and reason. He could understand wanting Neji. After all it was said that men 'wanted' things all the time. It was why many had mistresses or were frequent patrons of bordellos. He still couldn't understand why he wanted a man, but the idea of _loving_ a man, of feeling anything so intensely, did not sit comfortably with him.

-oOo-

Neji leaned in the training room's doorway, witnessing a side of Itachi he hadn't seen before.

He'd made the decision to leave once and for all, and had gone to Itachi's room to tell him face to face. The destruction in the room had alarmed him so that he'd run through the manor. The sound of swords clashing had put ice in his guts, but when he slid to a halt outside the training room, it was to find Itachi sparring with Tenten, face a mask of determined concentration. He'd been relieved. Then he'd been mesmerized.

Itachi _was_ a cold bastard on the surface, but beneath all that his blood ran hot, Neji realized. He dearly wished he could have seen the rage Itachi had to have been in to destroy his room the way he had. To bed him when he was in that state would have been a life-changing experience, he suspected, and a swift solution to the deadlock they were in. As it was, he was seeing the tail end of it, and still Itachi took his breath away.

Somehow Itachi's nude torso had never looked so masculine when Neji had been readying him for bed all those months. Relaxed, Itachi's muscles weren't that prominent. Now, when the compact man he thought he knew so well was a flurry of action and precision, and slicked with sweat, Itachi was a dream come to life. His hair flew around his head and shoulders in a dark cloud, also wet, and the way those muscles bunched and flexed…_this_ was Uchiha Itachi. Not the stiff, well-dressed, eternally cordial lord of the manor. This. This slicing, dicing mass of angry male. Someone who flew into a rage when thwarted, and threw his furniture around. _Always the quiet ones. _

Sadly, it didn't change his mind. Because even though Itachi's true nature was fiery, he was entirely too entrenched in his lifestyle to be anything _but_ the stiff, well-dressed, eternally cordial lord of the manor.

Neji turned and hefted the bag he'd packed onto his shoulder, and left the manor for the last time.

* * *

><p>"Deidara is dead. The telegrams weren't on him."<p>

Madara, who was re-reading the telegram detailing his success in Panama, looked up sharply. "_What_?"

Kakuzu opened his mouth to repeat himself, but Madara cut him off with a curt movement of his hand.

Konan stood up from where she'd been kneeling in the corner. "We must leave New York."

"No." Madara brushed his hair back from his face, thinking. "I'm not leaving this cursed country without my legacy. Kakuzu, where was he found? How was he killed?"

"On the road to Piermont, across the Hudson. He and his horse had been stabbed once."

"Once." Madara was incredulous. That any of his men could be done in so easily… "No witnesses?"

"An old woman says she saw a child on a donkey riding hard and that was it. A boy."

Obviously, Deidara had been on his way to Uchiha Manor, which was located on the stretch of wooded land just before Piermont. Probably to deliver the telegram about Panama, which was good. "We don't know if he had the telegram from Japan on him, but I'm inclined to believe he didn't," Madara said. "Deidara would have destroyed anything unauthorized immediately. And I always sent him advance word of what was authorized, so he wouldn't have waited around with that telegram for my permission to destroy it." He looked up at Konan and Kakuzu, satisfied. "There, you see? Nothing to worry about."

"One wonders how you've managed to live to your age with such a tiny brain," Konan murmured. She sounded genuinely thoughtful, and paid not the slightest mind to the way Madara's face darkened dangerously at her words. "Did it occur to you that if he was only delivering the telegram from Panama, he wouldn't have been killed? He had something someone wanted, or else someone saw him destroy the first telegram. Whoever it was took the telegram from Panama, and probably decided to deliver it themselves."

"You have no proof of that," Madara said.

"Deidara is dead," Konan sniffed. "That is proof enough for a blind man. Why do you suppose he was killed, if not because of the telegrams? Why even bother to take the telegram from Panama away from Deidara unless the murderer saw him destroy the first telegram?"

A very good question. Madara tried to see an alternative reason and finally concluded that Konan was very possibly right. "We'll attack tonight, then," he said quietly. "As soon as possible. Gather the men. Uchiha Manor will be hit in force. Bring me Itachi and whoever else is in that place."

Kakuzu bowed himself away to distribute this order, but Konan only pressed her lips together. She, of course, would have to go with them. _Kumo does not forgive._

* * *

><p>The insistent sound of the bell brought Inoichi out of his room, where he was packing his own bag, all the way downstairs and outside to the front gate, where a smallish boy stood beside a lathered and wheezing donkey. The boy kept his grimy finger pressed to the bell even as Inoichi broke into a shambling trot to reach the gate quickly. "Here," he panted. "What is the meaning of this? Be off with you-"<p>

"I'm here for Hinata-sama," the boy said. "I have an important message for her, and one for Uchiha Itachi. Telegram."

Inoichi's frown quickly dropped from his face. "You're from the telegram office? Why didn't you say so! Hand me the messages, son, I will take them to the individuals you mentioned."

The boy continued to regard him with large, unreadable black eyes. "No, sir. I'm to put the telegrams directly into the hands of the people they're for myself. I have orders."

"Very well," Inoichi consented. "Come with me." He pulled the gate wider.

Leading his huffing donkey by a frayed rope, the boy entered the Uchiha grounds. Inoichi cast a curious glance around…the men were nowhere in sight. That was unusual. One of the Chinese workers did run out of nowhere to come and take the donkey, though, which was something. Once inside, he looked in all the common rooms and found them empty. It was as he was passing the hall that led to the kitchen that he saw the men, the Chinese staff, and two of Hinata's women clustered outside a room farther down. He approached them. "What's going on here? No one thought to answer the door, and this boy-"

He reached the room they were standing outside of and peered in. There, in what could only be labeled as an outrageous display, were Tenten and Itachi locked in combat. Tenten's tunic and trousers clung to her most shockingly with sweat, and her hair was undone and cascading down her back. Itachi was actually shirtless, and just as soaked. The spectators all seemed transfixed by the fight. Inoichi himself was agog.

-oOo-

Itachi had long since reconciled his confusion and anger, and was now keenly focused on his opponent. He'd never gone up against anyone with such skill with a blade, or such endurance. By his calculation, they'd been at it for over two hours now, and Tenten showed no sign of tiring. His initial astonishment at a woman being so proficient was buried in admiration and attentiveness to her subtle technique. He prolonged the session, pushing past his growing fatigue, simply because he was fascinated. And he needed the distraction. Besides which, he was learning more from this slip of a girl than he'd ever learned from his father, and the lessons were refreshing.

Still, he'd noticed the crowd watching them. When Inoichi abruptly cleared his throat, Itachi finally decided that he'd had enough for one afternoon. He retreated to his starting position, as did Tenten, and they bowed to each other as if this was how they'd begun the match.

Itachi straightened and eyed her curiously. "Your skill is unparalleled."

Tenten smiled through the sweat on her face. "Thank you, Itachi-san. You honor me." Her eyes were alight with the pleasure she obviously took in combat, and her cheeks were flushed with exertion.

"You could have diced me to ribbons a hundred times over. Where did you learn?"

"In Japan. Please excuse me?"

Itachi dipped his head. Tenten left with the women, but the three of them stopped at seeing some boy Inoichi stood with. They remained just outside the doorway, looking on as Inoichi came forward with the child. "And what is this?" Itachi asked.

The boy gave an awkward bow from the waist. "Got a telegram for you, if you're Uchiha Itachi."

Itachi felt the corner of his mouth tug into a smile. "I am. And you are?"

"Mo."

"Mo. How old are you, lad?"

"Twelve."

"You're not the usual man the telegram office sends. What happened to Baker?"

Mo didn't answer. Itachi stared at the filthy face, the large cap, and the thin frame. "Well, let's have it then."

Mo handed the telegram over.

"Inoichi, see that Mo is given a bit of food."

"Yes, sir. Come, boy." Inoichi led Mo out of the room, but was stopped from taking him to the kitchen when Mo said that he still had to deliver his other telegram.

Tenten came forward. "I will take him to Hinata-sama," she said.

Before Inoichi could react, Mo was neatly taken from him and surrounded by the three women, who bustled him down the hall and out of sight. Shrugging, Inoichi turned toward the men, who were now beginning to remember their duties. They started to head back to their positions.

Itachi held the telegram, but didn't read it. "Shibi," he called to the retreating men. Shibi turned back. "Where is Neji? Send him to me."

"Neji is gone, sir."

Inoichi, who'd come back into the room, frowned. "Gone?"

"What do you mean, gone?" Itachi asked sharply.

"We saw him as he was leaving the grounds," Shibi explained. "Said he was leaving, and that he'd send for his cousin when he was set up someplace. Said he'd reimburse you for the expense of keeping her. I was to give you the message tomorrow morning, in case you tried to stop him."

Itachi stood perfectly still, momentarily too shocked to speak. "Do you know where he went?"

"No, sir."

"I see." Itachi became aware of the sword still in his hand, and turned to put it back in its place on the wall. He then moved to the far side of the room, where a desk stood against another wall. He went to the chair behind it and sat. "Please leave me, both of you. I want to be alone."

Inoichi and Shibi left.

* * *

><p>Kurenai knocked on Hinata's door and waited. After many long minutes they heard movement inside. The door was unlocked, and Hinata greeted them with a kimono loosely covering her nudity, and her long hair down to her hips. She saw the boy immediately, and let them all inside. The door was locked once more.<p>

Mikoto lay in a dazed sprawl on the chaise lounge. She sat up now with a cry of embarrassment, reaching for the clothes that had been discarded. No one seemed to mind that she was practically nude, or that her hair was also loose and disheveled. They watched her antics in calm silence.

Hinata finally went to her and held out another kimono. Mikoto could not look at her, but she allowed the garment to be draped around her. She shivered at feeling Hinata's hands settle on her shoulders.

"_There is nothing to be ashamed of," _Hinata leaned down to whisper in her ear. _"Pleasure is to be enjoyed, not shunned. Now that I have claimed you, you will call me by my rightful title, as all my subordinates do. Is that understood, Mikoto-san?"_

Mikoto slowly raised burning eyes to that perfect face. Never had she thought to experience such sensations. She hadn't known such feelings could even exist. All her life, she'd seen her body as a conduit for pain. Hinata had shown her otherwise, had shown her what two women could do with each other. Even now, standing and staring up into those serene gray eyes, Mikoto could feel the dewy moisture between her thighs, and the sweet, lingering ache that pulsed there in miniature waves. In her mind's eye she saw again Hinata's glossy black head between her trembling legs, and remembered the frightfully wild pleasure the woman had given her.

"_Mikoto-san? Do you understand me?"_

Wondering what was to become of her for enjoying such sinful practices, realizing that she would call Hinata anything if it meant she could feel those sensations again, and speaking with the utmost respect, Mikoto whispered, _"Yes. I understand, Hinata-sama."_

"_Good. Go into the bedroom and wait for me while I speak to my women."_

-oOo-_  
><em>

When Mikoto had shut the bedroom door behind herself, Hinata turned immediately to the boy. _"Moegi. Show me what you've brought."_

Mo grabbed the bill of her newsboy cap and swept it off, revealing a long, thick fall of straight red hair and a telegram in the cap itself. "_I would have been here sooner, but my donkey is slow. I got this from where Madara's man had thrown it," _she said in explanation for the telegram's rumpled appearance. _"Then it kept falling out of my pocket, so I had to put it in my cap."_

"_Where is Madara's man now?" _Hinata asked.

"_Dead. Killed him."_

Kurenai, Tenten, and Anko all lowered their faces at this grievous blunder.

Hinata's eyes went frosty. _"Dead?" _she said softly.

Mo knew she'd done something wrong at once, but hastened to explain. "_I had to! He wouldn't give me the telegrams!"_

"_There were others?"_

"_One for you, one for Itachi. I gave it to him."_

"_Nevertheless, you have made a serious error, Moegi. A spider does not behave so crudely. Nor does she kill without my direction. In doing so, you may have alerted Madara to the fact that he has opposition here."_

Mo hung her head, chastened. _"He wouldn't give me the telegrams," _she whispered stubbornly.

Hinata studied the bowed head. The hair was quite clean and shiny in comparison to the rest of the girl's appearance. She knew that Moegi was an eager initiate, keen to prove herself, and so had acted upon the first chance to present itself in a bid to prove that she had what it took to be part of the Silken Web. _"A spider is subtle," _she instructed. _"Subtlety is her greatest weapon. She finds a way to extract information, or get what she needs, that does not disrupt the world around her or draw attention. You have not learned this lesson, I'm afraid."_

Mo shivered where she stood, ashamed. She'd dishonored herself, she realized.

Hinata let her displeasure be felt for a few more minutes, before she finally looked away from the bowed head. _"You may leave. Return to your post in the telegram office. And Moegi," _she added when Mo tucked her hair back under her cap and turned to leave. Mo looked at her with wet eyes. _"I do not tolerate a mistake being made twice."_

"_I understand, Hinata-sama."_

When the girl had gone, Tenten, Kurenai, and Anko remained silent and seated where they were. Hinata at last looked down at the note in her hand, unfolded it, and read it.

She only needed to read it once.

Kurenai was astute at reading the non-expressions on Hinata's face, and felt her body tense immediately at how the gray eyes darkened. That was all. Only those pale eyes darkening and Kurenai knew that blood would flow freely before this day was done. She did not dare ask what was in the telegram.

"_I left Japan because the world is changing," _Hinata said in a low voice. Her head was still bent, still looking at the note. Her hair was black silk around her face._ "If the Silken Web is to continue to hold power, it will need to change with the world, instead of clinging to the past. I let my father send me away, let him believe he had power over a wayward daughter, let him think I had no interest in the family, so that I could establish power in this growing country…and I left them in the capable hands of my most trusted spiders. How, then, are my sister and father in Madara's hands?"_

The other three women in the room gasped softly.

"_I left Fuu and Mei Terumi in charge. Without my father's knowledge, of course. And Tsunade writes me that the spiders guarding my family are all dead."_

Tsunade was second in command to Hinata, an older woman. Hinata always said that in another time and place, Tsunade would have been a powerful ruler in her own right. Likewise, Mei Terumi and Fuu were among the highest ranks in the Web. They had been stationed elsewhere at the time of Hinata's exile, but if she was writing to Hinata, it must surely mean that she was now taking charge of the situation? Kurenai ventured to say this out loud.

"_Bring Moegi back here,_" Hinata all but hissed. Tenten hopped up to do this. Anko and Kurenai studied the blank face of their leader, alert and shivering in anticipation of her vengeance.

Akatsuki would not meet its end because they had taken Hinata's relatives, the women knew. They would die because they had dared to approach _Kumo's_ interests. This was not so much about family as it was about power. After all, Akatsuki couldn't have known they were abducting _Kumo's_ family, and so Hinata could not claim her revenge based on that…each member of the Silken Web knew that if circumstances required it, Hinata would sacrifice her family. Nevertheless, it _was_ personal, because it _was_ her family. Most of all, and the thing that was likely the root of Hinata's fury, Madara had caused _Kumo _to lose face before her subordinates by getting to her relatives so easily. Her retaliatory strike would be swift, decisive, and merciless.

Moegi was ushered back inside and made to kneel. Hinata lifted her head at last and pinned her with emotionless eyes. _"You will send this message to Tsunade in Japan, and Yugito Nii in Hawaii: Annihilate Akatsuki, anyone aligned with Akatsuki, and anyone suspected of collaboration with them."_

"_Yes, Hinata-sama."_ Mo touched her forehead to the floor in the lowest bow possible.

Hinata looked at her three women. _"This ends now. I will speak to Itachi-san. Where is Neji?"_

"_Gone," _Anko said.

Hinata blinked. _"Gone? He has left the manor with all that is happening, and without telling me?"_

Anko and Kurenai nodded.

"_There may have been some argument between him and Itachi-san," _Tenten said. _"Itachi-san was in a rage…I sparred with him."_

Hinata did not care for the deep blush on Tenten's face, or for Neji's staggeringly selfish lack of sense. Mikoto's words of witnessing some kind of embrace now took on new significance. _Of all the times to have a lover's quarrel. _She looked at Moegi. _"What was in the telegram meant for Itachi-san?"_

* * *

><p>Itachi sat for nearly an hour staring at nothing, the telegram forgotten in his hand. Neji had actually left. After his many protestations of staying to protect Itachi, he'd picked up himself and gone. <em>That only proves what a cad he is, <em>Itachi thought. It didn't change the way his insides ached at the knowledge.

_I've driven him away._

He didn't see how that could be the case, when he'd clearly shown himself willing to partake in a second kiss. Itachi reminded himself that he'd chosen to forget Neji and the chaos he represented. That he had other matters to deal with. _That was before I wanted him. Before I knew I wanted him, _he corrected himself.

But Neji was still gone. And there was still Madara to deal with. No matter that Neji's defection hurt, in the end it changed nothing. And as for wanting Neji… Something Itachi had learned a long time ago was that just because he wanted something didn't mean he should have it. A gentleman exercised restraint and control in all matters. Even this, Itachi told himself.

A chill passed over his wet skin. He looked up and saw that the sun was setting, and discovered himself still shirtless. Lighting the lamp on the desk, he looked around the room until he found his shirt and the remains of his jacket lying on the floor. He went to them and put them on. Both were torn, he saw. He spared a moment to shake his head at the spectacle he must have presented, sparring shirtless with a woman, and could scarce credit the fact that he'd behaved so improperly. That wasn't like him. His peers would have a field day with that knowledge if they ever learned of it.

Then his thoughts turned to Tenten and he stopped in the middle of the room. An unusual woman, but proper and demure for all her inappropriate skill with a blade. _There_ was someone he should be interested in, not some man. Tenten was young, probably fertile, and respectful. He remembered her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. _And attractive_. She'd make an excellent addition to his household, and give him strong sons to boot. He thought of all this as he idly made his way back to the desk and saw the telegram he'd forgotten about. He picked it up and opened it.

That quickly did he forget about Neji, Tenten, and Madara. All feeling and color drained from the world as he sank to his knees.

* * *

><p>Hinata strode ahead of her small group of women and Moegi, until she reached the library, where Inoichi sat looking at the map of the state. "<em>Where is Itachi-san?" <em>she asked without preamble.

"_Why…I don't know," _Inoichi stammered. _"Is something wrong?"_

Hinata turned to her women. _"Find him." _To Inoichi she said, _"Tell the men to be extra alert tonight. Madara has made his move, it will not be long before he comes here."_

Frightened, Inoichi sprang up and came around the table he'd been using. _"My God, what do you mean? What move? Is he really coming here?"_

"_Find the men and warn them," _was all she said. She was gone the next second, and Inoichi turned to find his coat and do as she commanded.

-oOo-

Some minutes later, Hinata slowly slid open the training room doors and peered inside. Itachi was standing at the large window, body straight, hands clasped behind his back. _"Itachi-san?"_

He spoke without turning around. _"My brother is dead."_

"_I know."_

"_Madara would not have given that order unless he was ready to move on me. He's coming here soon, isn't he."_

"_I believe so, yes." _

"_So it has come to this."_

She moved to stand beside him and saw that his face was devoid of all emotion and his eyes were dry. _"You must be ready."_

"_I've failed my brother. I failed Sasuke. Believe me, Hinata. I am ready for this to end one way or the other."_

* * *

><p>Inoichi looked everywhere, but found no sign of Shibi, Gai, or Shikaku. He couldn't cover all of the Uchiha grounds, of course, but the men had certain places that they patrolled. They were at none of those places. Thinking to use one of the horses to cover more ground, he went to the stable.<p>

The Chinese grooms lay dead just inside the door, throats slit.

Turning to run, Inoichi met with the flat of a large man's hand coming into brutal contact with the side of his head. He went down without a sound.

Kisame looked up at the men who materialized from the shadows at the back of the stables. "All the men accounted for?"

"Only one," Hidan grunted. He threw down Shibi's unconscious body. "Other two are lurking around the grounds somewhere."

"Find them."

Hidan and his group slipped from the stables, while other dark shapes converged on the house from other directions.

-oOo-

Mikoto opened her eyes from a deep, peaceful sleep, still wrapped in the kimono, and wondered at the vaguely familiar feeling of unease that had woken her.

The first thought she had at seeing the man two feet from the bed was that he was a ghost. His hair was white, his skin was deathly pale, and his eyes were red-rimmed. Two small red dots sat on his brow, intensifying the strangeness of his appearance. His green eyes were unblinking on her face. Mikoto sat up, frozen in terror as this apparition withdrew a bone-white weapon of some kind from within the sleeve of his own kimono, which was also white. He spoke in a low, melodious voice:

"Madara sends this message…"

The white weapon whistled through the air and left a spray of red in its wake.

"…He does not tolerate disobedience."

-oOo-

Itachi continued to stare out at the dusk-shrouded grounds, but Hinata turned from the window at sensing the unnatural stillness in the manor. It was thus she saw three men slipping into the training room on silent feet, saw them draw weapons even as they moved toward her in a sudden rush.

Sensing movement from Hinata, Itachi turned to ask her to send his mother to him, and found her in the process of lowering her hand. He looked to where she was staring, and saw three men on the floor, choking on the thin hair ornaments that protruded from each of their throats. Their convulsions ceased before he'd completed his turn, and Hinata was gliding from the room, withdrawing a fan from each of her sleeves, and flicking them open with a small, metallic hiss. _"Guard yourself well, Itachi-san. They are here."_

He thought this was a rather unnecessary statement. At that moment sound erupted in the manor, men yelling, the sound of combat, and he broke from his paralysis and sprung to action.

* * *

><p>His head was killing him. The first thing he did upon regaining consciousness, before even opening his eyes, was to turn over and throw up.<p>

"He's coming around," a familiar voice said somewhere above him. "Knew they couldn't crack that thick head of his." It sounded like Bee.

"Should we tell him?" That sounded like Chouji.

"God, no. He'll probably ask once he's awake, but I don't want to be around when he hears the answer." That was definitely Shikamaru's voice.

"Not like there's anyplace for us to go, at sea the way we are." Lee.

And yes, he could feel the gentle rock and sway of a sailing vessel beneath him, a feeling that intensified his nausea. Naruto finally opened his eyes to find himself in his cabin aboard _Whirlwind_, and his friends around him.

Chouji managed to hold his head over the pail again when he threw up a second time, and helped him back down when he was done. "Easy, Naruto. You have a nasty gash on the back of your head. Took forty stitches."

Bee _was_ there among the faces, and behind him stood Ei, with his big grizzled head bandaged and an expression of murder on his face. Seeing it, everything came back to Naruto at once, and he groaned.

He'd cut down that first bastard with the dynamite, but it seemed that a dozen more men swarmed over _Lightning's_ sides and every other one had a bundle of the explosive sticks in his hand. Half of Ei's crew had been ashore, but the half on board materialized at their captain's shout and then it had been a free-for-all. They'd fought well, but Naruto recognized the fancy Japanese moves. Apparently, so had Ei. Just before his main deck had exploded he'd called for Naruto and his crew to jump ship. Naruto had been last to go, taking an extra second to smash one of the men's face into the rigging. The explosion had gone up all around him at the moment he'd dived for the water. He remembered being blasted far out over the waves, heat and pain, and then the impact of striking the water. Nothing after that. Everything had gone black.

He wet his dry lips. "How long have I been out?"

"Twenty-four hours," Chouji said gravely. "First few hours we weren't sure you were going to make it. Thought they'd bashed your brains out for sure."

Something nagged insistently at the fuzzy mush of Naruto's thoughts. He remembered that Chouji's mother was dead, that Chouji likely didn't know, but he didn't think that was it. "Who's sailing my boat?"

"Kakashi." It was Shino who answered now. Why were all their faces so long?

"What's-" He closed his eyes until the dizziness passed. "What's he doing here? And why…are all of you here? Where…oh God." They all waited patiently as he threw up a third time. Chouji steadied the pail through a mild swell with his foot. "Where are we?" Naruto finished tiredly.

"About twenty miles from land," Chouji said. "You need to relax. Here, drink this." He held a tin cup of water to Naruto's lips, but Naruto ignored it: he'd just scooted himself higher in his bed and gotten a look around his crowded cabin. There in the corner stood Kankurou and Temari, both of whom were crying quietly in each other's arms.

And now he heard the nagging thought trying to get through to him loud and clear. Ignoring how dizzy it made him, Naruto sat up completely, head swinging back and forth as he looked around wildly. His friends backed up to the walls, a few going to stand behind his desk, as Bee and Ei moved in. Ei actually climbed into the bed with him, straddling his legs, but Naruto barely noticed. "Where's Sasuke? _Where is he?_"

At that moment Kakashi came down and entered the cabin. He sat beside Naruto on the bed. Naruto took one look at his face and felt something inside him break. He held the pieces together by sheer force of will, held them in vain hope until Kakashi said, "There was an explosion at the offices, Naruto. Sasuke and Gaara were inside. I got there as soon as I could but I was too late to save them."

Naruto stared at him, frowning, still holding the pieces of himself together, though they were slipping through his fingers. "No. They could be fine, you don't know, we have to turn the ship around and go back for them-"

Kakashi gently put his hands over Naruto's where they clutched at his trousers. "We didn't leave port right away. I stayed long enough to summon the crew, and the men I knew were loyal to me. We all saw the offices go up in a blaze. No one could have survived that. One of my men tried to enter anyway, and died going in there. We had to leave then; the fire from _Lightning_ and my offices spread, destroying most of Colón by the time we were out to sea. There's nothing to go back _to_. We will go to Panama City in a few days-"

Naruto's face whitened. "No. _No_! No, damn you!"

"Hol' 'im! Hol' 'im," Ei hollered. He threw himself forward, flattening Naruto to the bed, and breaking the structure in the process.

But even with Bee and Ei holding the furiously struggling, screaming, maddened Naruto down, he almost got free. They all heard the crack of Ei's jaw where Naruto's fist landed, before Chouji and Lee added their weight, and Shino grabbed one of Naruto's legs. And still they couldn't hold him.

"We have to go back!" Naruto screamed, tears streaming down his face. "We have to go back, you didn't see his body, he could be alive!"

"No one saw anyone exit the building," Kakashi shouted over Naruto. "He. Is. Gone!"

Naruto went crazy.

* * *

><p>Itachi found himself with a sword in each hand. He was surrounded by four men, one of them the scythe-wielding thug who'd poisoned him some weeks ago. Itachi took him in a deep slice across his throat, and was turning to dispatch two more before his death rattle had finished sounding.<p>

The remaining one was a white-haired, white-garbed man of exceptional skill. Itachi parried his strange white weapon again and again, but could not advance his attack. He heard fighting elsewhere in the manor, heard the Chinese servants screaming and being cut down. From the corner of his eye he saw some red-haired child leap at another man's face, a long steel spike driving into the man's eye.

"Your mother awaits you in the afterlife," Itachi's opponent said.

Itachi stiffened in shock and denial, and his opponent took that moment to simultaneously thrust his weapon at Itachi's throat, and withdraw a smaller weapon from one loose sleeve. Itachi knocked the first weapon aside with his own, but was not in time to evade the second thrust…which did not matter since there was a whistling sound at that precise second, and then his assailant went rigid. When he fell forward, Itachi saw the handle of the steel spike protruding from his back. He looked up and found the child running forward to retrieve her weapon.

He thanked her with a stunned nod, before sprinting with her to a different part of the house. Another host of men rounded the corner of the hall and hurried toward them. He and the child cut through them, blood and blades flashing.

_He was lying about my mother, _Itachi thought. But even if the man hadn't been lying, Itachi found no part of himself grieving for his mother. The small portion of his heart he allocated to her simply withered and fell away painlessly, to leave behind nothing more than the realization that he was now utterly alone in the world. He had nothing left, and honestly could not care less now if Madara found his cursed legacy or not. He cared about nothing but the feel of his blade parting flesh and bone, the warm spray of blood splashing his face, and the cries of his opponents as they went down beneath his rekindled fury.

-oOo-

In the dining room, Kurenai, Anko, and Tenten were a blur of graceful movements, flashing weapons, and flying blood from their attackers. Hinata dispatched another with a throw of one fan, but her focus was solely on the black-cloaked figure attempting to sneak up behind her. She spun, took hold of the wrist slashing upward toward her, and twisted it, all before sending the edge of her other hand at the figure's throat. The hood fell away and Konan was revealed. Pressing two fingers to a select bundle of nerves in Konan's neck, Hinata had her unconscious a moment later. She had no time to consider her former lover; it seemed all the remaining men converged on the dining room just then.

* * *

><p>Itachi had never seen a man so tall, or a sword so broad and oddly shaped. There were three vertical cuts on each of the man's cheeks, and his eyes were very small and very pale. These were fleeting thoughts though, since nothing Itachi did seemed to overpower the man. They were in the den, with nothing else that could be used as a weapon close to hand. Having fought Tenten extensively, and now Madara's men, Itachi found his strength was waning.<p>

The man gave a mighty swing of his sword, and Itachi's blade, the only one he had left now, snapped off at the hilt. He felt the impact of the blow clear to his ribcage, and his entire arm went numb. The sword was lifted again, this time to be brought down in the victory blow, but Itachi wasn't done yet. He plowed himself forward, catching the man in his mid-section with one shoulder, and propelled them both toward the window. They fell to the snow outside amid shattered glass. Itachi sensed the man's grip on his sword falter. He brought his laced fingers down again and again like a club on that swarthy face. The man was built like a rock; Itachi could find no weakness in him, no matter that he struck him several times on his pressure points. There simply wasn't enough strength left behind his attacks. The man got a foot up between them and sent Itachi flying across the ground, where he lay unmoving for several seconds.

Through the blood dripping into his eyes, Itachi saw at least five other men join his opponent. Together they made their way toward where he was forcing himself to his feet. He set his stance and lifted his hands to defend himself.

All but one of the men drew weapons. The last one stopped advancing and hung back. All Itachi could see of him in the twilit night was a head of prematurely gray hair pulled back into a ponytail. This man watched as the men closed ranks around Itachi.

-oOo-

His father had put him and Sasuke through similar trials, where they'd been required to continue fighting though they were dead on their feet and in monstrous pain. Itachi knew how to shut down his mind and ignore his hurts. He could go on, but it was one against five. These men were considerably more skilled than he was, stronger, fresher…

A foot landed on his sternum and he went down. A blow to his back, his neck, his head. He managed to get an arm up to block a foot to his face, and then a devil of long, wild hair and flashing gray eyes landed in front of him and sent the largest attacker flying backward with a powerful palm thrust. Itachi heard ribs break from that one blow.

The other four converged on this new threat, and Itachi was able to push himself to a sitting position to see the identity of his rescuer.

It was Neji.

Itachi barely recognized him. Neji fought silently, using no weapons but his hands for the most part, with an occasional blow blocked by a kick. It was a mistake for the men to come too close to Neji, Itachi saw; Neji had but to lay hands on some body part and it was immediately broken. He took them on all at once, holding them in place as he delivered one, two, a dozen blows, and then it was over. They were down, and Neji was turning to him and grabbing him beneath an arm, pulling him roughly to his feet, and urging him to run. Itachi ran.

Neji led them off the grounds, to where two horses were tethered to a tree. "The women," Itachi panted.

"Better off than we are," Neji threw over his shoulder. He was in the saddle and galloping away. Itachi hurried to follow suit, leaning low over his horse's flattened ears.

* * *

><p>Moegi, Kurenai, Tenten and Hinata stood by while Anko made her report. <em>"They're all dead. I checked each room of the manor and the outlying buildings in the grounds. Mikoto-san is also dead."<em>

_The only good thing to come of this night, _Hinata thought. _"Itachi-san?" _

"_I was outside with an opponent," _Kurenai said_. "I saw him surrounded and went to help, but Neji arrived before I could intervene. He and Itachi-san left."_

Just then Shikaku and Gai entered. Hinata remembered seeing Gai take on seven men at once. "_Inoichi-san isn't with you?" _she asked them.

Shikaku shook his head. _"Madara wasn't here either. One his men must have taken Inoichi and left before the fight was over."_

Hinata turned to the black-cloaked figure kneeling between Kurenai and Anko. The golden eyes were lowered, as they should be. _"I dismissed you because you thought to dictate who I shared my bed with." _Hinata said._ "You wanted exclusive rights. Had I not loved you as deeply as I did I would have killed you." _She _should_ have killed her, Hinata thought. Not doing so had been a serious tactical error on her part, but she'd been young and in love, and nowhere near as experienced as she was now. No matter. She would correct her mistake tonight._ "You have joined with my enemy, the man who has my family. My spiders will free them shortly, but if you hope for a swift and merciful death, you will tell me where Madara is. If not, I will see that you linger for months in exquisite pain. Decide."_

Konan began speaking.

* * *

><p>The land was predominantly wooded. They had to slow the horses to a fast walk for a good portion of the night, and Neji stopped often to check that they weren't being followed, but other than that, they pressed steadily northward.<p>

Sometime around midnight, when they were both shivering with cold, Neji allowed them to rest. He pulled a blanket from the roll on the back of his horse and tossed it to Itachi. "I'm going to scout the area," he said. "Stay here."

Itachi had no thought on moving. The excitement of the fight had long since faded. His blood was cool now, and his mind dulled with fatigue, grief, and the delayed reaction of having killed. He'd never killed before. He sat shaking at his horse's feet, huddled in the blanket, and looking up at the crescent moon between the trees. There were odd sounds in the forest, and he noticed that the horses' ears were flicking back and forth alertly. It would be just his luck if some animal ate him alive. That would be a fitting end to this day's events.

Neji came back over an hour later. "Can't we stay here?" Itachi asked when he saw him untying his horse.

"No."

"In the name of Heaven, why not?"

"I won't feel safe until we've found shelter of some kind."

"But-"

"_Mount up_."

-oOo-

They exited the forest at the crest of a sizable hill at dawn, and beheld the sun rising over a small village. The Hudson was on their right, sparkling in the early morning light. Neji nudged his horse down the slope, and Itachi continued to follow.

A street vendor selling fresh-baked honey buns sold them a dozen of her wares. Another vendor along the main road sold them a bottle of milk each. Itachi was mortified to see Neji pay for these items, but kept his silence. It hadn't been lost on him that Neji, despite saving him, was still very angry. He didn't speak to Itachi unless he had to, and didn't look at him. _I'm being treated the way I treated him, _Itachi thought.

Past the village was more wooded land. Neji allowed them to stop and wash in the Hudson, before producing fresh clothes from his saddlebag. The trousers were long on Itachi. Neji hacked the ends short with a knife he also retrieved from the saddlebag, and then they were turning inland, into the wooded area.

* * *

><p>Sometimes they rested the horses or let them graze, but Neji didn't stop until he came to a boarded up entryway cut into the side of a large hill. It was just after sunset.<p>

Neji dismounted to investigate. "It's an abandoned mine," he said. They were the first words he'd volunteered all day.

"If it's abandoned, it must be unsafe." Itachi watched him yank a board free and squeeze inside. A moment later he saw light inside the dark entry and assumed Neji had found a lantern that had been left behind by the miners.

Neji returned a few minutes later. "We don't have to go far. There's a common area immediately inside, where the miners left a stack of supplies. We'll be safe and warm here for the night."

"What of the horses?" Itachi asked as he dismounted. His back and legs were sore.

Neji eyed the entrance. "I think they can fit if we removed the boards. The interior is high enough for them to stand."

It took some work, but they managed to pry the boards off the entrance one by one, and led the horses, which just barely fit, inside. Neji set about stacking the boards over the entrance again as high as he could, and further concealed the opening with leafy branches. When he was done, he led the horses toward the tunnel leading from the common area, and found a set of tracks. He was able to tie the reigns to these and left the horses there.

Itachi was sitting on an empty water barrel, with the lantern by his feet, and the saddlebag in front of him. He took a moment to look around while the horses were being tied, noting the rocky walls and the earthen floor. The space they were in was irregularly shaped, and perhaps twenty-five meters across. There was an untidy pile of rough-looking blankets to one side, as well as more lanterns and a few tools.

Neji walked right by him when he was done to stand at the entrance and peer out through the narrow gap in the boards he'd left.

The horses stamped a few times, and snorted once or twice, but other than that it was silent.

-oOo-

Now that he was still at last, with nothing to distract him, Itachi finally let everything of the past twenty-four hours occupy his thoughts. He remembered the telegram. Grief welled up in him, threatening to unhinge his mind.

Abruptly he said, "Sasuke's dead."

Neji turned sharply to look at him. "What? How do you know?"

He wanted to talk about it, to lay blame, to have the pain out of him. "Kakashi sent a telegram. There was an explosion at the offices. Sasuke was inside, him and Gaara. You were wrong. You were _wrong_, Neji, you said my brother would be safe so long as Naruto was warned and he wasn't. They got past Naruto. He didn't even see them coming, just as Madara said. My brother is _dead_. Dead! He's d-"

Neji turned back to the gap in the boards. "No, he's not."

Itachi was swiftly losing his control as everything caught up to him. He was weak, exhausted, beset on all sides, but Neji's dismissive statement made him go still. "What do you mean?" Hope, wild and irrational, energized him and made him stand up. "You have some knowledge of him? Speak!"

"Naruto wasn't the only one looking out for your brother. There was someone else there who I knew would see that Sasuke was safe at all costs. Someone _Madara_ wouldn't see coming."

"There was? I beg you, _who?_"

"Gaara."

"Gaara?" Itachi said blankly.

"The boy is deadly. One who would have been one hell of a Japanese assassin, which is something I know a little about. Trust me, Gaara's not someone to trifle with. I sent him a telegram the same time I sent one to Naruto."

Itachi looked aside, thinking. Gaara was a capable servant, outstanding, but just that…a servant. Despite his rapid growth this past year, Itachi couldn't say that the boy was more than that. "Are you sure? I know his devotion to Sasuke is-"

"You don't know a lot about what goes on in your house." Neji said. "If you did, you'd know that he'd been taking lessons from my cousin for past eight months before he'd left."

"Your cousin?" Itachi remembered the book he'd read, and Tenten's prowess with the sword. "So Hinata _is_ some sort of samurai?"

"Not samurai. They have a different code than the Silken Web, but similar. More lethal."

Itachi listened in plain shock as Neji went over the Silken Web and _Kumo_, remembering that he'd read of these too. "And Gaara is a part of this Silken Web?" he asked in disbelief. "You make it sound as if it is a society of women only."

"It is women only, but Hinata took a strong liking to Gaara and his ways. Took him under her wing, trained him night and day when he wasn't tending to you or Sasuke. He was an apt pupil; I've never known the Web's secrets to be passed on to any male. He's not an official spider, but he's as close as any boy will ever be. So until I hear from him that Sasuke is dead, I'll assume they're both alive."

Much of the grief constricting Itachi's heart lessened considerably as he slowly sank to the water barrel again. He was able to breathe deeply at last, even though there was still no guarantee that Sasuke was alive. There was only a chance that he _might_ be, but that was far better than the certainty that he was dead.

He'd failed at everything, not just at protecting Sasuke, Itachi thought miserably. The family was brought to ruin, his inheritance and Sasuke's gone, and he'd let himself be run out of his home. His mother was dead, Sasuke was presumed dead. _Father…I'm glad you aren't here to see the shame I've brought on us. _When it was all said and done, he had nothing and no one. In a few short weeks, he'd managed to undo everything his father had spent decades building.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Itachi raised his eyes to where Neji stood with his back to him. Neji's hair, normally tied back, was now loose around him. It's true thickness was revealed in this state, and Itachi thought idly that Neji's hair resembled a cloak. The stuff reached his waist and completely surrounded the upper half of his body. It shimmered with the faint lantern light, showing honey undertones in the rich brown.<p>

He was heart sore, Itachi admitted, and utterly defeated on every front, but he had enough wits left to him to realize that he hadn't quite lost everything. There was Neji. Neji had left him, but in the end had chosen to come back. Itachi reflected that he'd gotten everything wrong these past weeks; he'd been fighting the wrong things, and had been lenient with the wrong things. Here, now, with almost all he held dear in the world stripped away, he was left with nothing but the most elemental truths.

He sat for a long time, turning this over in his mind. And he stared at Neji. He stared until the fullness in his throat and the pain in his chest could no longer be explained away as solely grief. He stared until he finally accepted that certain things couldn't be ignored, or trivialized, or hidden behind platitudes a child could see through.

When he stood up once more, he spoke simply, in the voice of someone who had nothing left to lose and who has accepted that fact. He was trembling with nerves. "You said that if I approached you, that I shouldn't be seeking conversation."

Neji turned automatically at hearing Itachi speak. Now he just stared, at first not understanding. When the words he'd thrown out after that kiss came back to him, he turned around once more, uninterested. "So?"

"So…I'm approaching you. And I'm not seeking conversation."

-oOo-

Neji continued to stare out at the night as those words punched through him. Truthfully, he didn't need to keep watch; the woods were too dark to see anything, and it was highly unlikely that they'd be discovered where they were. He just didn't want to have to look at Itachi or risk talking to him further.

When he'd left the manor, he'd been on foot. A few hours later, he'd walked into the bushes to relieve himself. As he'd been fastening his trousers again, an entire party of men had thundered by on horseback, at least forty strong. Neji had recognized two of them, the two that had attacked Itachi in that alleyway.

By the time he'd made it back to the manor, winded and seeing double after having run flat out for miles, he'd barely been in time to save Itachi's neck. He hadn't even thought about it, but had jumped right in. Afterward, he'd tried not to think at all. Not when he led Itachi to the horses he'd stolen from Akatsuki's pack, or when they'd been running after that. He was as much a hypocrite as Itachi; he'd made up his mind to leave and wash his hands of the man, only to drop everything and run to his aid at the first hint of danger.

And now here they stood, with Itachi likely speaking out of gratitude and him too in love with the man to care. He just wanted him. As impossible, and ignorant, and missish as Itachi was, he still wanted him more than he'd ever wanted anything is his life.

Still, he had to say something. "I think you're confused."

"Perhaps I was," Itachi conceded quietly. "But I'm not now, I assure you."

Neji finally gave up and turned around. "With all due respect, yes you are. You're just happy to be alive, and grateful your brother isn't dead. You're confusing gratitude with…with…"

"With wanting you?" Itachi met Neji's mulish expression forthrightly, hiding nothing. "I think we can both agree that I wanted you before the attack or the news of Sasuke, don't you?"

"And you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me."

"If memory serves, you were the one who walked away from both…episodes."

_Damn him. _"Fine. What do you want now?"

"I don't know," Itachi said honestly. "I only know that you're the only thing I haven't lost and I want to make sure that I don't. I…I want you."

Neji had to turn around before he ravished him right there. He pretended to look outside again. "If that's the case, then I have to say that your timing couldn't be worse."

"I disagree."

"Clearly," Neji muttered. He was quiet for many minutes as he stared at a small vixen stalking some unseen creature. He sensed Itachi still standing and waiting behind him.

It was no use. He'd never been good at pretending or being anything but the blunt creature he was. Neji turned around a final time and slowly walked toward Itachi, feeling his body hum and throb. An image of Itachi shirtless and sweaty, swinging his blade in fury, caused his own skin to become warm and damp. He stopped when they were a foot apart, and just looked down into the dirt-smudged face. "It's hard for me to believe you're willing to go this far. Seems to me you had notions of maidenly courtship."

Itachi had the grace to blush. "I see no reason for you to throw my ignorance in my face."

"And I see no reason to believe your words are genuine. One doesn't just cast aside an entire lifetime of beliefs, not if the someone is as dead set on them as you are."

"What would you have me say?"

"With all due respect," Neji murmured, "You're going to have to be a little more direct."

"Direct?" Itachi's face warmed the longer Neji continued to stare at him so intently. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I _mean_ spell it out. In no uncertain terms. What. Do. You. Want?"

They held each other's gazes, neither of them backing down, until understanding finally dawned on Itachi. He lowered his eyes to Neji's throat and swallowed hard.

_It's one thing to be defeated, another to surrender, _Itachi thought. "Take me," he said thickly. "I want you…to take me, Neji."

* * *

><p>AN 2: Alrighty, if I could have your attention for just one moment. I mentioned in this chapter that Sasuke had seen Itachi's rage once and feared it ever since. This isn't something I just thought up, but is part of the background tapestry of the brother's lives. Now. I alluded to the fact that Sasuke might fear his brother's wrath in Save Me. Sasuke and Itachi had interactions from chapters 17 to 20. That's four chapters. If anyone can find and identify the single passage I used to illustrate the fact that Sasuke feared Itachi's anger, I will give them a personal shoutout next chap. ^_^

Good luck!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: So, so, so. Quite a few of you got the correct answer to my little challenge of last chap, but NONE of you specified what chapter it was from. The only one to do so was **Turningjapanese11**, and she put the chapter number along with an excerpt from another chapter, so that doesn't count fully. The other reviewers who got it right: **Mistralle**, **Sheechiibii**, and **Mizuki Inuzuka**.

Moving right along. This chap is a helluva lot shorter than last chap, but we're not dealing with 15 characters here. Just two. And it was ridiculously difficult to write. More light will be shed on this chapter in the following chap, and we'll return to the others as well.

And now, I really must take a moment to thank **Sheechiibii** for her latest review. Those words are inadequate, but they're all I have to offer her for her staunch support. **Sheechiibi**i, if you're reading, I thank you a thousand times over. ^_^

[Edit] There's fan art of Neji as he is in this fic available from my profile, as well as Gaara. And there's one of Naruto in that suit in chap 20 of Save Me. The one that drove Sasuke insane. All three are just sketches, but still worth looking at. XD

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 11<span>

Itachi had little time to reflect on his words, the affect they would have on Neji, or on what he himself expected to happen once the words were out of his mouth. He hadn't actually meant to say what he said, he'd only meant to convey to Neji his willingness to surrender to whatever was between them. To accept it instead of fighting it.

The pale grey eyes, normally the color of misty rain, darkened. They turned stormy as Neji closed in, and that had a frisson of alarm passing down Itachi's spine.

Neji reached him and lifted one hand to slide beneath his hair, gathering the equally loose mass in one fist so that he could crane Itachi's head backward. Itachi's indignation at being handled thus was quickly smothered in the rising tide of his desire, now transformed unexpectedly from its low throb of earlier to something keening and howling that shortened his breath.

He went willingly, eagerly, when Neji tugged, their one kiss goading him with remembered pleasure and heat. He'd thought of little else since. If he'd had one complaint about that kiss it was that it had been so frustratingly short. Neji had shown him a glimpse of the possibilities, only to withdraw at the very moment he'd given in to them. And in the case of the near kiss, Neji hadn't even given him that much. This time he sensed they would both have as much as they wanted, and he was impatient for it.

Just before their lips met, Neji hesitated. His smoldering gaze of conquest made something in Itachi leap up in protest. Only a second, with Neji's hand tightening in his hair and Itachi's jaw now hardening, but it was enough to have Itachi's visions of surrender evaporating completely.

Then they were coming together, their mouths opening and consuming each other as the weeks of built up tension –months in Neji's case- finally broke all around them. There would be no running this time, no accusations flung, no ultimatums given. And Itachi, for his part, intended to see that he was not cast aside this time around. Running his hands down the length of Neji's hair, he grabbed two fistfuls of the stuff and wound them round and round his wrists, working upward until he could grab Neji's head and make his demands without fear of cessation. He had no intention of letting Neji escape this time until _he_ deemed he'd had enough.

Conscious as they were of their separate victories, they were simultaneously oblivious to everything but the feel of each other, of glutting themselves at long last where there would be no interruptions, no need for stealth or secrecy, and no possibility of prying eyes. For those first few seconds they forgot everything but the immediacy of their longing finally being satisfied.

They kissed, broke apart, dived for more, staggered back, pulled each other in again. The sounds they made, the hunger, it was soon too much; they each went the way that was natural for them, intent on bending the other to their will.

Itachi gloried in the knowledge that his tongue could and did speak the same fiercely wild, hot language that Neji's did. He took shameless advantage of the grip he had on Neji's hair by keeping the man's face bent to his. Desire such as he'd never felt, not even during their first kiss, pounded a pagan drum of demand in his veins so that he shoved at Neji even as he was pulling him. He was all but drunk on his taste, on the smell of him, on the little hisses and sounds of protest Neji made at having his hair pulled.

-oOo-

Again, the man surprised him. Despite the vivid memory of how Itachi had kindled in his arms last time, and the recent knowledge of how hot-blooded Itachi really was, and the even _more_ recent plea to be taken, Neji could truthfully say that he'd expected just that…to take. To lead. To engage in mutual sexual abandon, but to be _in_ _control_. He was normally an easy-going person, adapting his fluid personality to a situation as the need required, but sex was one area where he remained unyielding. Either he led or he walked, simple as that.

And yet, when he'd buried his hand in Itachi's hair just now and drawn him close as he'd been longing to do for ages, he'd seen that fire kick to life in Itachi's eyes and known, _known_, that this wasn't going to happen the way he'd imagined it.

At first he didn't care too much. They were wild, both of them; to give in at last to something they'd each been denying themselves wiped away every other thought until all they could do was feel- and in his case, he at least knew what was coming; the anticipation was near insupportable, never mind how good Itachi felt and tasted.

Itachi _didn't_ know, though. This was clear to Neji. The man was ten times as wild as he was, believing all the pleasure to be had existed in the kissing, that there would be nothing else of importance, and so threw himself into it headlong. Itachi treated kissing as if it _was_ the act of sex. Then too, Neji reasoned, the man had never indulged in passion, so this was probably to be expected. At any rate, Neji was soon faced with all the pent-up desires of Itachi's lifetime pouring out of him. Aside from the abuse his hair suffered as a result, there were Itachi's teeth to contend with, unintentional scratches given to Neji's face, and the unmistakable intent coming from Itachi, the intent to lead, his previous plea to be taken be damned.

Neji pulled back only enough to quickly turn Itachi around, so that his back was now pressed to Neji's front. Caught in Itachi's fists as his hair was, it became twisted in a rope in front of his neck. He lowered his face to the side of Itachi's throat, tightening his arms around the shorter man as Itachi let loose a spate of furious epithets at being denied further kissing.

"Sh," Neji hissed frantically. "Shh!"

But Itachi refused to be hushed, and seemed to take greater insult at Neji's attempt. He twisted and turned, demanding to be set free, calling slurs on Neji's parentage, pulling on the hanks of hair wound around his hands until Neji cinched one arm around his waist in brutal disregard for Itachi's shout of pain. The man was probably still bruised from Akatsuki's attack, but Neji didn't care. He sent his other hand diving down the front of Itachi's trousers and found him hard, hot, and leaking.

Itachi quivered to stillness at once, mouth working soundlessly. Neji squeezed provocatively, and Itachi sagged.

Neji kept his face lowered in Itachi's neck, assessing the shallow gasps and rising heat in the man's body with every particle of his attention. He squeezed and stroked, alternating until Itachi sagged further. The hands opened in his hair. Neji cupped the twitching pouch of flesh beneath the rampant evidence of arousal, and was rewarded with a moaning sigh. The hands loosened further. There was only Itachi's breathing now, done in time to the vital rhythm Neji settled on, and the way he shivered in Neji's tight grasp; Itachi was subdued. "Better," Neji breathed. "Much better."

"Bastard," Itachi wheezed raggedly.

Neji stilled his hand. At the same time he turned his face into Itachi's jaw and dragged his lips over the feverish skin, kissing and nipping until he found the tender morsel of one earlobe. He bit it, working off the hunch that Itachi would take his pleasure spiced with pain, and was proven right by the man's cock jumping powerfully in his hand. Itachi reared once more, and one hand tightened in Neji's hair again. A guttural sound rumbled low in Itachi's throat; his hips bucked forward, seeking the rhythm, but Neji kept his hand still. He started to withdraw it entirely, also letting go of the death grip his arm had around Itachi's torso, but Itachi prevented both actions. His hands disappeared completely from Neji's hair, spilling the brown mass around them both as he clamped one hand around Neji's retreating arm, and the other around the hand Neji was pulling out of his trousers.

Now they were both completely motionless. Itachi was still pressed to Neji's front, and Neji still had his head in Itachi's neck. He could feel where Itachi was trying to put the arm and hand he had in his grip back to their former positions, but he continued to resist these silent efforts until the lesson was learned. Itachi haltingly turned his head so that their lips were a breath apart. "Please," he whispered. It was an appeal given grudgingly. Itachi let go of the hand Neji had at his waist to place it on Neji's head instead, cupping it and pulling it inward until their mouths were grazing each other. "_Please_."

Neji's hand slid with excruciating slowness back to the damp warmth found in Itachi's trousers and closed with equal leisure around the weeping shaft. He held it lightly, watching Itachi shiver in need and anticipation, waiting until the lesson was driven home...before clenching his hand savagely and striking up a relentless pace. Itachi was soon groaning again, then panting. He wilted forward and clung to the arm Neji had around his waist for support.

Their shadows danced on the rocky wall, as Neji bent with him in an effort to keep his balance, holding him up as he alternately stilled and worked his hand. Whenever he felt Itachi swelling toward release he would clamp his hand tight around the base of his flesh until the tide ebbed. Itachi would twist and yell, all decorum and control completely forgotten, but Neji would only resume again once he knew the climax was safely out of reach. Then he would begin again, and Itachi would sag in his arms, nearly sobbing. Perhaps it was cruel, but Neji meant to be in charge, and as long as Itachi opposed him he would continue to prolong his release until he was certain that madness was imminent.

The moment came when Itachi lost all patience. He jumped in Neji's grip, lashing out with fists and feet. Neji hung onto him grimly, gritting his teeth against the friction Itachi's writhing ass caused against his own arousal, and pumping the fist he had around Itachi's cock furiously. He was called bastard and worse, punched and kicked, but he let Itachi's release roll out of him in thick, shattering waves of pleasure.

Itachi went limp. His weight dragged at Neji's arm while he struggled over to the blankets and jerked them out of their pile with his now-sticky hand. He spread them awkwardly, still holding a senseless Itachi, until he could turn and lay the man down. Shaking the kinks out of his arm, he bent over him and inspected him closely.

Not entirely senseless, he saw. Dazed. Near sleep and utterly drained, but the black eyes slit themselves open to look at him. Good.

Far from finished, Neji stood up and began stripping his clothes off.

* * *

><p>Though he felt dead, Itachi wasn't too far gone to notice the way Neji came to inspect him. The flicker of concern in his grey eyes didn't quite erase what Itachi considered barbaric mishandling of his body. But then Neji was stepping back to undress and, drained as he felt, Itachi could not have torn his eyes away if he wanted to.<p>

Neji's body had a panther-like grace to it, a fluidity to the movements that had always secretly interested Itachi. The limbs that once moved in servitude now stripped away soiled clothing and revealed lean but solid muscles, and fair skin that was hairless everywhere save for the downy patch of sparse fuzz at the crotch. Itachi got himself up on an elbow, inspecting the restless organ that dwarfed his own. It strained with a blatant and intimidating sense of _readiness_, swollen and waving and glistening with Neji's arousal. Even as Itachi watched, a long, silvery thread of excitement pearled from the slit tip. It grew, hung, and dangled toward the edge of the blanket he reclined on. It did not break, not even when Neji straightened to extinguish the lantern.

The unease that had begun with Neji's look of conquest had been smothered with the subsequent tortuous climax forced from him, but not forgotten. It stirred at the sight of Neji's manhood, and now, in the dark, feeling Neji's body come to rest on his, an active feeling of dislike settled with the weight. It smacked of subjugation and control, as Neji's earlier treatment of him had, and this was _not_ how he intended to be taken. He did not intend to be taken period, and forced his limp and unresponsive muscles to move, to show the hands removing his clothing that he could remove them himself; he intended to have Neji still, but on his terms.

-oOo-

They were both naked now. Neji's weight covered his once more and the difference nudity made claimed all of Itachi's attention immediately. Having never shared nudity with anyone, or seen another nude for that matter, he was unprepared for how primitively pleasurable it was. Especially in light of Neji's actions thus far.

He'd heard tales from other men, read poetry, that detailed the softness of a woman's skin, how it was like rose petals. A dim memory of handling a rose before his wedding night surfaced, wherein he'd been seeking some form of guidance for what was coming; his one experience in the whorehouse had not been too enlightening. He'd learned the mechanics, but it had been the whore who'd ridden him, not the other way around, and he'd touched her as little as possible. His father had entered the room then, and given a short, excruciatingly embarrassing lecture on the mating practices of husband and wife. The gist of it had been to keep it as short and painless as possible, and Karin would be happy. His mother was happy with his attentions, Fugaku said. There'd even been advice on how best to quickly impregnate his wife and thus secure an heir. A regime of every other day had been prescribed by his father for the first three months, followed by twice a week for another three, then once a month. If his seed didn't take root in Karin after a year, it could be assumed that she was barren. Luckily, Karin had ripened scarcely a month after the nuptials and Itachi had breathed a sigh of relief. Of all his nights with her, there had not been a single one he'd enjoyed, and she'd insisted on them both retaining as much clothing as possible during the act.

The feel of Neji's skin on him now brought him up short. He would not go so far as to call his touch as soft as rose petals, but the glide of his thigh was smooth, the skin firm and…sensuous. The word came to Itachi as a hand slid up the far side of his ribs, pulling him closer. The thigh gliding up his own was joined by a calf that hooked behind his leg and drew him in as well. It was then he realized that he'd pushed Neji off of him when he'd first felt the weight, and that they were on their sides now. Neji was pulling him against his body. There was less a sense of being controlled in this equal position and he went. He let the hand and leg pull him, and then Neji's mouth found his.

The satiny slither of tongue on tongue, lip on lip, calmed a few of the restless thoughts in his head. The hard, insistent club of Neji's arousal, however, stirred others. It pressed against his own limp organ, causing it to rise at this perceived threat. And all right, those lips and tongue were speaking to him, reminding him of the hot, wild language of before, trying to get him to speak it again, and his feelings were there…the aching need he had of Neji, the want, the desire to take from the man all he'd been telling himself he couldn't have.

But there were those thoughts.

And then there was Neji's hand, rubbing down his back, disappearing into the crevice of his buttocks, and he finally twisted his head away from the kiss to say, "No."

Neji went still. "No?"

"Your hand-"

Neji shifted his hand, and suddenly the fingers were inside him and Itachi felt the most incredible sense of pleasure and disgust all at once. He shuddered. Neji angled his fingers to touch some place in him that had him stiffening on a jolt of pleasure so keen that it was all he could do not to shout, and still it…felt…wrong. He shoved at Neji, pushed him away. He felt his hands yanked above his head in one of Neji's, and here Itachi found strength at last and jerked away violently. "What?" Neji panted. His voice was surprised and upset in the dark.

"Stop it," Itachi said hoarsely. "Stop _touching_ me."

The fingers were withdrawn, the hand removed.

Neji backed away. Then his mouth twisted in the dark as disappointment, sharp and biting, suffused him. "I knew it. I _knew_ you couldn't give up your lifestyle. That's you, always two steps back for every step forward." He started to get up.

Itachi grabbed his shoulder and held him in place. Neji didn't immediately try to get free, wanting and hoping even now. "It's not that you're touching me," Itachi said awkwardly. "It's _how_ you're touching me."

Neji was silent, his bunched muscles beginning to relax. He sat up and turned toward the shadowy shape of where Itachi was also sitting up. "I don't understand. You liked what I did." It was a statement. "And you asked to be taken."

Itachi could just see where Neji's face was tilted in the dark in honest puzzlement. "I may not know about the union between two men, but I know that what you forced me to experience was not anything I consented to." His own disappointment colored his words, but he was a direct creature and still intended to have something of Neji this night. "I enjoy kissing you. Can we not…leave it at that?"

"But I _want_ you. You've no idea how much."

Now Itachi turned to him in earnest, some of his disappointment ebbing as this ragged admission did something to his insides. "And I want you. But not like this, with you…_forcing_ the pleasure on me so brutally."

Neji considered the words, feeling his cock soften in shame and a private sense of indignation. "I've had no complaints before."

Itachi said nothing.

Neji ran a hand through his hair. He _was_ forceful when it came to sex. He knew that. And he'd been waiting for Itachi for a year now, tortured into near-madness by the constant duty of waiting on him, by being his assistant and privy to his secrets and the inner workings of his mind. He loved Itachi. And now, dammit, now that he'd waited and suffered and Itachi was finally willing, he wanted to pounce and claim him while he had the chance.

Itachi didn't have true misgivings over the act, Neji was certain of it. If he did, he wouldn't be still sitting nude next to him. No, this was, as Itachi said, an objection to Neji's methods. And if there were no true misgivings, then Neji would proceed at all costs. Even now, the subtle heat emanating from Itachi's body called to him.

All Itachi wanted was kissing.

But he'd said he wanted Neji too. "I'm not sure what you want from me," Neji said quietly.

Itachi cautiously moved closer. "I want to touch you. And kiss you."

The warm breath of those words fanning his shoulder tugged Neji, as he was always tugged by this man. His head dipped, angled, found those lips already parting for him. _But there's so much more, _he wanted to say.

-oOo-

Unlike their first kiss, or their second, this one was careful. Wary. A new experience for them both. Neji found gentleness in him where he'd never had cause or need of any, and Itachi found an outlet for the raging curiosity and need he always felt around Neji. He tasted. Really tasted, without the hindrance of chaotic feelings or impatient hands. He sampled Neji's mouth, learned it, the feel of it, the shape of the lips, the texture of Neji's tongue. He only had Neji's other kisses to compare this one with, but he found no lack in pleasure. In fact, the way this one slowly deepened by degrees, and the way his insides knotted in turn by slow degrees, had him quickly reassessing his earlier statement of only kissing. His hand went to Neji's shoulder and squeezed there, reveling in the tense muscle, the evidence of Neji's desire. He was glad it was being held in check, glad also that it hadn't suffered too much at his rebuke.

_I still want him, _Neji thought as he got to his knees. The kiss didn't stop. Leaning over Itachi now, straddling his hips, he felt the way Itachi instinctively stiffened at the perceived advantage he had over him, and made himself calm his rising excitement. He still wanted him, despite the man's deep-seated and natural aversion to being dominated. Motionless, and still kissing Itachi, Neji nearly cried at the effort of holding back _his_ natural inclination to dominate. He let his hands run through Itachi's hair, down to his shoulders, to his arms, where he lifted them around his neck. Itachi allowed this, tightening his arms. The contact this forced their bodies into elicited a small moan from them both.

God, they were both so ready. So ready, Neji thought. His cock screamed for release. He wanted Itachi open and receiving him, surrendering to him. He needed that. And if Itachi wouldn't willingly yield, then he would have to do so without knowing he was doing it. Neji would need to be subtle. To coax him and guide him and lure him into it.

Ever so gently he applied pressure to Itachi's shoulders, until Itachi understood and lay backward. The kiss went on, deep and searching, with Itachi's hands now running up Neji's arms to where he had his weight braced on his forearms. He didn't mind Neji's weight now, or was too distracted from it, but he squirmed at the feel of Neji's resurrected arousal pressing against him. Neji broke away long enough to whisper, "Does it bother you?"

"No…"

"I can move…" he started to roll away.

A moment of hesitation, then Itachi was grasping him and pulling him back. "No. It's…it's all right."

More kisses, both gentle and not so gentle. Neji let the harder ones come from Itachi, let him believe he was leading, if in this one area. He held back sometimes, pulled away just a fraction, enough to make Itachi want, then need, then pursue him. And when he did, Neji was always there to press back with his lips and mouth, letting his own hunger show just a little more each time.

He had control. If he hadn't, he'd never have made it through this past year of celibacy. Him. Celibate, when he never failed to satisfy the raw urges he seemed to experience more than any other man in his acquaintance. He'd waited.

And now he parceled out his throbbing need piecemeal, as he probably should have done in the first place, instead of hitting Itachi with the full brunt of it the way he'd done earlier. Itachi responded, growing bolder himself, matching him, surpassing him sometimes, then striving to meet the ever-increasing demand of Neji's mouth. Until they were both gripped tightly by the other, kissing fiercely, locked and quivering on the blanket with the need that Neji, at least, knew could not be allayed with mere kissing.

He pulled away, had his head pulled back in and his mouth assaulted, before he pulled back an inch once more. "I need more of you," he gasped.

"Yes..."

"More than kissing…"

"Yes, yes." Impatience.

Neji wondered if Itachi was aware that his own arousal had been a stiff and silent demand for more than kissing for some time now. It rubbed and slid against his own, leaked with his own, and now he slowly reached his hand between them and brushed against it.

Itachi stiffened at once. Then reached his face for Neji's again. Another brush, and the kiss paused, but didn't stop. Neji gave a single light stroke and removed his hand. He was sucking Itachi dry, having the man very nearly crack the iron control he was using thus far by kissing him back so unreservedly in turn. The heat between them was almost unbearable.

This could be enough, Neji thought falteringly. He'd longed countless nights for precisely this, hadn't he? The sweetness of having Itachi want him, of kissing him, of feeling his hands on him, was like a glimpse of heaven. Maybe it didn't have to happen all at once.

But when Itachi hesitantly reached for his hand and brought it between them again, when he closed Neji's fingers around him once more with his own hand, Neji knew a savage spasm of triumph. He thought, _It will never be enough. I must have all of him now, tonight. _Still, despite successfully luring Itachi this far, he exercised control. To give in too soon to his lust would be to risk driving Itachi away again.

-oOo-

Itachi gorged himself on Neji's mouth, glutted himself on the kisses until the rising heat in him threatened to burn him to ash. It was the same heat from before, when Neji had handled him so roughly, but the difference this time was that it built gradually instead of surrounding him all at once. He was able to deal with it this time, riding the slowly-climbing waves until he thought they could climb no more. He kissed and kissed Neji, took and took from his mouth, all that Neji had to offer, and still it was not enough. Not until he felt that brush on his member. The shock, the brief spike in heat, made him stop in surprise and recognition. There had been another accidental touch, then Neji's hand, and the pleasure had been so exquisite that he'd almost wept. Yes. Yes, that was what he needed now, the release Neji could give him. But the hand was withdrawn and did not return. He remembered what he'd said to Neji, but Neji had expressed a desire for more. He'd given his consent. Why, then, didn't Neji continue?

Perhaps he was showing consideration at last, Itachi thought with decreasing coherence. Perhaps he needed a more specific invitation. He _had_ set the man down rather sharply, after all. His eggs throbbed painfully with the need for release, something that had not happened to him before tonight, and he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to keep quiet about it. Moving as politely as he dared under the circumstances, he replaced Neji's hand and sighed at the relief of feeling himself held. Sighed and trembled at the awful gentleness Neji used now. His grip was feather light, his stroke painfully slow, and Itachi, after several minutes of trying to continue kissing through his growing frustration, finally broke apart to whisper, "Harder. Please."

Neji firmed his grip a little and went just a touch faster. He leaned in for Itachi's mouth again.

Itachi gave it, feeling the heat in himself double, feeling his manhood scream in Neji's light grip, then broke away again. "Neji…"

"Stop?" It was a concerned whisper.

"No."

"Softer?"

"_No_."

"…Harder?"

A single, jerky nod of shame. That he was reduced to requesting the very treatment he'd condemned…

Neji firmed his grip. "I don't want my touch to put you off again," he murmured, as if reading his mind.

Itachi dug his nails into Neji's forearm, silently willing the hand to greater strength and speed. Neji filed away the information that Itachi was better provoked with skill instead of force. Because he could stand it no more himself, and the way Itachi sweated and trembled in his grasp only increased his needs, Neji took pity on him and struck up a rhythm that wasn't too fast or slow, with a moderate grip to match. Itachi's hand left his forearm to clutch at the blanket as his back arched. Neji didn't stop his hand until it was coated in warmth, and Itachi was slowly settling back down on the blanket, his ragged breathing echoing around the mine.

Neji remained beside him, leaning on an elbow and looking at him. He waited.

Itachi had time to think as he caught his breath. He could feel the waiting quality of Neji's silence, and thought he knew what the man was waiting for. He could admit now that kissing would not be enough. Not now. Perhaps never. And he wanted Neji. Whatever it entailed, however revolting it might be, he at least wanted this night with him, to know him fully. And, it seemed, he would have to surrender after all, no matter how much that went against his nature. He reminded himself that surrender was not the same as defeat. Reminded himself as well that Neji had stated and shown him how much he wanted him in turn. Perhaps it wouldn't be bad, he thought. Perhaps neither surrendering, nor what he was surrendering to, would be as bad as he feared. Still, he was unable to completely block images of his first mating with Karin. How she'd cried. The pain he'd caused her in his ineptitude. His fumbling attempts, his own shame, hers, and to know they were both condemned to God only knew how many nights of this before his seed took root. Neji had made mention of no previous complaints. _He must know what he was doing then, if he's had other lovers,_ Itachi thought bracingly. More than he himself had known despite his father's advice. And Neji was being understanding now. Behaving as civilly as an act involving nudity and shameless masturbation could allow. And yet…

Neji seemed to sense what was going on in his mind, the way he always seemed to intuit such things. He felt Neji's finger stroke his hand, heard him whisper, "I won't hurt you. "

"I'm hardly a blushing maid, Neji."

Smiling at the memory that he'd said something similar to Itachi in the past, Neji tried again. "I won't…do anything you don't want me to do."

Itachi opened his eyes in the dark. "I believe that. And I believe you won't do what you did before. It's just…I'm not quite sure how to proceed. What the rules are."

Neji's brow furrowed. "Why do there have to be rules?"

"There are always rules. What's accepted and not accepted. I simply don't know how to…be with a man."

Neji moved closer, now running his finger up Itachi's arm and down again. He worded his thoughts carefully, aware that they would seem radical to Itachi. "Did you ever stop to consider that being with a man _or_ a woman isn't about rules?"

He hadn't. "There's a way to do everything. And your way seems to be… domineering. I have to surrender. That seems to be the rule here."

Neji quite suddenly found himself viewing this prospect with the same distaste Itachi obviously was. He remembered how hot Itachi's blood ran, remembered seeing him swing his sword in anger, the way his room had been in shambles from his rage. The idea of the man who'd done those things being forced into surrender was not only abhorrent, but criminal. For the first time since doing it, he regretted the approach he'd used with Itachi as a fresh wave of love tightened his throat. "There are no rules when it comes to things like this," he said thickly. "I understand your need for both rules and boundaries, but they don't really mix well with feelings, Itachi."

At the mention of feelings, Itachi felt something in him jump. Or maybe it was hearing his name from the voice that always addressed him as sir. He never seemed able to accustom himself to his name from Neji. "Feelings?" Neji had mentioned feelings once before.

"Yes, feelings. You want me to touch you, but it goes against who you are to simply give in to me. Trying to decide between what you think and what you feel is hard in the best of circumstances. This…" his finger was joined by the rest of his hand and he put his palm on Itachi's chest. Felt the heart thumping steadily. "In here there are no rules," he said softly.

Itachi slowly turned his head to look at him. His eyes had adjusted to the dark so that he could see perfectly well by the grey light that Neji's eyes were on his face. He didn't know if Neji was alluding to the feelings either of them might have for each other, but even if he wasn't, he was right. All that he was feeling seemed centered in his chest.

Neji moved closer. "The only rule," he whispered, as his face lowered toward Itachi's, "is indulgence. The only guide is what you want. And how much you want it. And maybe," he went on as his face came nearer still. "Maybe what I want isn't for you to surrender. Maybe all I want is for you to _see_. To let me show you. To be _with_ me. With nothing in our way, no rules or boundaries or anything but this." His hand passed over Itachi's chest, palm bushing one taut nipple. "And this." His lips touched the corner of Itachi's mouth. He pulled back slightly, looking down at him.

So close. Neji's face was so invitingly close. Itachi's eyes dropped helplessly to his lips. "Yes," he said quietly. "All right."

* * *

><p>It was surrender of a different sort. Itachi, quite frankly, was in awe of the things that followed.<p>

He was gathered immediately yet without haste to Neji, where he was completely enfolded in the man's hard-muscled arms, and kissed to within an inch of his life. Having been freed from doubt, having decided to give in completely to Neji and whatever he would show him, Itachi found the pleasure of the kiss more intense than before.

And there was touching now, the hands, Neji's strong hands, moving surely over him while remaining unthreatening. These weren't the same hands that had demanded his obedience before. These hands wanted to give him pleasure he could actually enjoy. Pleasure that it didn't gall him to yield to. Pleasure that made him sigh for more; he was given it. And gave in to it.

Neji watched with wonder and pleasure at the things Itachi responded to. Learning him. Showing him. Odd things. The way Itachi shuddered when he ran his fingers down his throat, grazing with his nails. How brushing the same hand over his nipple brought out a hum of pleasure, but rubbing his shoulder brought on a stronger sound. The way he so clearly enjoyed having his stomach massaged, but did not care for stimulation to his navel. How his chest seemed sensitive to kisses, but not as sensitive as kisses to his arms, especially inside his elbows. Itachi seemed to especially enjoy touches to his face. He enjoyed the area under his arms being kissed, but was not ticklish. And when Neji slipped one of the man's fingers into his mouth, he thought Itachi would swoon. He wasn't sure if it was the sensation against his finger, or if the novelty of a mouth doing something besides kissing was the reason…

It was his mouth, he decided when Itachi jerked at having his nipple sucked. He was stiff…then he relaxed…and then his arm curled around Neji's head as he turned is body completely toward him.

Neji let one hand rest on Itachi's thigh, rubbing up and down several times, letting him get used to the feel. He let the area his hand rubbed widen gradually, passing over more skin, until he cupped one ass cheek. He did it deliberately, not trying to hide the action. Itachi held his head to him still, and Neji moved to the other nipple as he moved his hand lower, seeking the moist warmth between those cheeks. Itachi's arm tightened further around his head. Clenched hard a moment when Neji brushed his anus with two fingers.

He lifted his head to look at Itachi, but kept his hand in place. Itachi stared back.

He was slow about it this time. Rubbing first with slight pressure. He withdrew his hand to put the fingers in his mouth, sucking slowly before Itachi's surprised eyes, then returned them to the tightly-clenched hole.

Still shocked at what Neji had done, Itachi let himself be kissed again. The thought of germs crossed his mind, but he could find no difference in the taste of Neji's mouth, and really those fingers _did_ bring pleasure. He found himself relaxing, even if the feel of a hand there was still strange in the extreme. Somehow it was no stranger than kissing a man, or lying naked with one. And then he remembered that when Neji entered him it would be from this place he was touching. He stiffened again, and Neji reluctantly removed his hand.

But there were other touches. Neji traveled all over his body with his hands, kneading, massaging, pinching, and gripping. He was turned first this way, then long minutes later another way. All the while Neji's mouth returned to his again and again, until he was senseless with it. Mindless and panting, and unable to think anymore because all capacity to do so had transferred to his skin. Here was where he began to interpret the true meaning of Neji's words. Of what he wanted and how much he wanted it. Here, on his feverish skin, and lower where his loins ached and throbbed, and where his anus now pulsed on its own, perhaps awakened to the possibility of sensation by Neji's touch. Certainly so.

And when Neji's hand slipped there again, he let it, opened his legs and himself and let it happen. The fingers circled once, were taken away, and brought back wet. A finger slipped inside him, the longest on Neji's hand, and rested there a moment, before being withdrawn halfway. The minimal slide, the feel of it, made him shiver. He was still as he panted in the shadowy mine, focused on this thing Neji seemed determined to show him.

In and out, slowly. Withdrawal. More moisture. Inside him again. That anyone could want to touch another _here_ of all places was wicked enough, but the discovery that such a place had _feeling_… He was very grateful that Neji didn't go for that place in him right away, the one that had sent such a bolt of pleasure through him before. He was given time to adjust to both the feel of the finger inside him and the distinctly different pleasure it afforded him than Neji handling his manhood had. This pleasure was less pervasive. More elusive. Deceptive at first, the way it was there and gone, only to creep back. And then a second finger was added, and the pleasure gained a foothold, one that went straight to his tailbone. He twisted a bit, hissed in surprise, but kept his legs spread. It crossed his mind what an undignified position this was for him to be in, but he was still intently focused on the languid twist and glide of those digits, now beginning to stretch him deliciously. The faint sting intensified his pleasure; he found himself lifting a leg before he caught himself and lowered it again, but Neji said, "No. Do what pleases you. Hold back nothing."

Neji's voice was rasped with his own enjoyment, and Itachi opened his eyes to see his face, wondering how this pleased him, if he could feel anything, or if the simple act of pleasing another was enough. He thought of touching Neji, really touching him, as Neji was doing to him, and his manhood jumped in desire, only to settle against his stomach with a dull ache.

Ignorant as he was, Neji's technique was not lost on him. The way those fingers turned upward, brushing that place in him ever so gently, while Neji's thumb massaged the ridge of flesh directly beneath his seed pouch was driving him mad. "Nng~_Neji_…"

Neji's mouth landed on his, just as the hand began a steady pumping in and out of him, hitting that place in short, precise jabs that had gooseflesh bursting across his skin. His seed pouch, his manhood, everything in proximity to Neji's hand went through a fierce upheaval; Itachi sucked in a deep breath and shouted as he managed to climax a third time. There wasn't much to come out of him, but his body jerked against Neji's. Those grey eyes stared into his while it happened.

He was wonderfully loose and languid in the aftermath, barely aware of Neji's lips and hands elsewhere on him. There was a period of blackness –perhaps he dozed- and then he was being gathered into a sitting position with that hot mouth on his throat, and his head pulled back for it by Neji's hand in his hair.

Teeth nipped him to greater wakefulness, gave a boost to his muddled desire so that it was sharp and focused once more. He grabbed Neji's head to kiss him, but was only given a brief taste as it became clear that Neji, too, was focused. His mouth passed over Itachi's chin, his neck, his shoulder. Down his arm, over his chest, across one nipple, and down his stomach. Itachi frowned down at the head in his lap in confusion, then reared back on his hands, his hips rising in surprise and devastating pleasure as he felt Neji's warm mouth slip over his shaft. A sound of dismay was driven from him, before all air left his lungs. He couldn't even bring his hips back down; some inescapable need to feel more caused him to continue thrusting upward into that silken heat. He did come down, though, at the suction Neji struck up, suddenly leeched of all strength. Past all shame in his wanton need for more, he tangled a hand in Neji's hair and held his head to the task, feeling it bob beneath his fist and his skin all but slide off his bones in molten heat, and shivering ecstasy.

It had to be fatal, such a concentration of pleasure. The intensity surely was not meant for mortals to experience. He found himself trying to ride the pleasure as he'd done before, to master it, to accept it, but it was too much. Too keen, to steep, too _much. _"Neji!" he shouted when he erupted seconds later, but Neji was swallowing around him, and Itachi thought he'd go blind at that moment. His entire body was so sensitive after that, that each dewy kiss Neji planted on his stomach in an upward trail, over his chest, and to his mouth, made him shudder violently. Sparks of bright light were still going off in his mind when he felt those moist lips touch his own.

He was being kissed before he really had time to process the fact of where Neji's mouth had recently been. The spicy taste and smell of himself came to him in fitful increments, so that by the time he was fully aware of it and what it meant, he was already hungrily devouring both, almost gnawing Neji's mouth, and inhaling in great, powerful gusts.

_The only guide is what you want…and how much you want it._

He wanted Neji. He wanted to do the things being done to him, to hear him cry out, to make him shudder in helpless desire and keen for more. Shifting his legs beneath him so that he was kneeling, Itachi raised himself in this position, evening their heights somewhat, and kissed Neji with all the power at his command- irrevocably driven beyond any semblance of control or restraint with this latest act of debauchery.

-oOo-

Neji smiled through the kiss: it was happening again, at last. Itachi was bursting to life in his arms, inhibitions and reservations forgotten in the pursuit of pleasure. _Finally. _

There was so much he wanted to do to him, to show him. He'd wisely chosen to introduce Itachi to the wonders of cocksucking before the man had been fully awake. He was sure a protest to make his ears ring would have gone up had he tried that with him alert and aware. The pleasure had drowned any shock on Itachi's part right quick, just as he'd intended, and now look what he'd unlocked. The hot-blooded man he'd glimpsed in the manor.

Really, Itachi was almost too much to handle. Weaned on the dogma that he was entitled to anything he wanted, and now freed from hesitation by Neji's words, he was nigh unstoppable. Neji reveled in the force, something he especially enjoyed with his lovers, and matched it with his own. A freed Itachi in turn freed him from having to hold back his desire, and he cast off all pretense now. He was returned to the state he'd never really been out of since plunging his hand down Itachi's waistband.

One would be hard-pressed to say who was in control. They grappled through the kiss, with Itachi urgently recreating what he remembered of Neji's caresses with unnerving accuracy. It was Neji's head yanked back by a fistful of hair now, and Itachi's greedy mouth that plundered his throat. Itachi's thumb that rubbed firmly over the rigid point of Neji's nipple, and Neji's mouth that sagged on a surprised grunt of pleasure. On their knees as they were, their hair all around them, neither was able to truly gain leverage over the other, but when Itachi bravely sent his hand south of Neji's waist, he thought with secret and ruthless pride that maybe he was the one with the upper hand now, so to speak.

He spared a moment, a fraction of one, to note just how hard and hot a man's penis was. The width filled his hand completely, straining at his grip. Touching Neji like this, this too was what he'd wanted. To be closer to Neji than he'd ever been to anyone. He tightened his hand. The effect was instantaneous and unexpected.

Neji gasped sharply, while shoving Itachi's hand away. That was more than he allowed his lovers. The embrace wasn't broken, and it was a minor thing, soon forgotten. He quite enjoyed the feel of Itachi's hands elsewhere, if not the grip on his hair, and the kiss…the kiss was a drug he couldn't get enough of. He quickly lost himself in Itachi's mouth once more.

But Itachi had the bit in his teeth now, and refused to be denied. He was already reaching down again, without breaking the kiss, to cup the full and aching seed pouch beneath Neji's staff of need. Neji was momentarily too caught off guard by how good that felt, and then that hand was around his cock again, harder than before, and stroking in a fast, jerky rhythm.

Neji suffered through it, frozen with insult, anger, and pleasure all at once. He couldn't decide which emotion outweighed the other. He'd yet to climax tonight, though, and the need to do so quickly overpowered pride and preference as Itachi pumped him furiously, if awkwardly. He locked an arm around Itachi's shoulders, holding them both in an immobile embrace as his entire body stiffened at the steeply climbing waves of pleasure. He couldn't even breathe, and soon began thrusting into that hand, seeking more, ready for his mind to explode, he was suddenly so hungry for it.

A cyclone of white-hot sensation began somewhere in his belly, spiraling outward to quickly consume him. Robbed of speech, sight , and hearing, Neji came in a bone-shattering storm of release that tore a yell from his throat at the last second as his body jerked in Itachi's grasp. Streams of white shot up warmly between them, gluing them together, but Itachi didn't stop. Mimicking what Neji had done earlier, he continued to milk him until his seed-coated hand was making a frothy lather along Neji's spasming, rock-hard shaft. Neji fell backward with a tortured groan and took him down with him.

* * *

><p>Neji lay with a hand covering his eyes, shaking, but was given no time to recover. Itachi. The man was sliding down his body, lowering his head to leave fervent kisses all over him…until he was hovering over Neji's still-hard cock, his hair hanging down in dark sheaves to either side of his face. He reached out an inquisitive hand and, meeting Neji's eyes the entire time, slowly put his tongue to the dripping slit.<p>

The feel of Itachi's tongue, slightly rough and burning, made Neji go utterly still. By the faint light afforded to him he could see the single drop of white Itachi licked off of him being smeared on the flat of his tongue…and then it was gone, pulled into Itachi's mouth, while those black eyes bored into his own.

He'd never seen a more erotic sight in his life. Something in Neji took a dangerous leap into the unknown. He watched in a daze as that dark head lowered over his cock, and then he was surrounded by unbelievable heat.

-oOo-

Itachi was mad from the power he had over Neji when handling his manhood, or he'd never have taken it into his head to do this wicked thing. Ah, but he was so curious to know exactly what other men had, and how it compared to his own! Curious about everything happening tonight, if he was honest. The notion of experimenting or exploring Karin's body had never come up. Neither of them had ever shown the slightest desire to do anything but get it over with as soon as possible. With Neji, the way the man touched him, the _things_ he did, he rather thought it was impossible _not_ to be curious, to be driven by pleasure to seek more and more, until he simply had to touch Neji in turn or perish.

He was surrounded by sensation, wallowing in it, drowning. The tangy aroma wafting from the flesh in his hand was a scent he remembered from his own youth, and times spent gratifying himself. He'd stared at the drop of moisture adorning Neji's opening and found that the smell left a dense sort of excitement drilling through his guts. He'd thought, _I must taste that…_and then he'd swallowed the pink head all at once after doing so, before he could think further.

The way Neji's face contorted only intensified his own desire. The taste was strong, but somehow very Neji, and very intimate. His blood thundered though his veins at committing such a hedonistic act, at the very depravity of it-

_-No rules but what I want. No rules…no rules, means nothing wrong can be done. Nothing we do is wrong-_

-and exhilaration almost had him biting the flesh in his mouth, so uncontrollably did it flare though him just then. His mouth immediately filled with saliva, so that he swallowed. Neji writhed in agony at that. He remembered how it had felt to have Neji swallowing around him, and hummed in amusement. Neji bayed at the ceiling. And when he did it again, Neji lunged up with a tortured look on his face and pulled him away, unable to endure another second.

There was no time for disappointment. Neji rolled with him, and they were kissing again. It seemed they never stopped kissing that night.

As long as he lived, Itachi thought he would never forget the taste of Neji, of what it felt like to reach his hand up behind Neji's neck while they were kissing and feel the play of muscles there whenever Neji slanted his head. He would never forget the way Neji's hair would slide down his forearm then, to pool by his shoulder, or the way the stuff felt when it touched his face. He could never forget how Neji's strong body felt on his, or how those sharp teeth felt digging into his skin, or the sound of Neji's breathing, hot and fast, as it matched his own in excitement. He thought, _There is nothing in life I know so well as this body now, _as he ran his hands over the solid muscles. He'd been starved for this, for contact, for touch and feeling and pleasure. He feasted on Neji with eyes and lips, hands and tongue, nose and eyes again. Long minutes were spent staring at Neji, into his eyes, at all the parts of him, and then he would touch and taste and be touched and tasted, until there was no way to tell them apart in the dark anymore, and Itachi had ceased to think of himself as a separate entity.

* * *

><p>After that long period of restless action, there was a period of calm where he lay against Neji. Neji's hands rubbed up and down his back in a way that felt wonderful. It was neither odd nor unwelcome that their previous frenzy had calmed to this quiet state between them. In it, they were able to feel the silent thrum of unity between them. A connection, something that twined about them and through them with unbreakable filaments that did not bear close scrutiny just now. Sensing them, they were a tad uneasy; those filaments would never be destroyed, would bind them stronger than blood or duty, beyond honor and preference. Perhaps against their will. Silence was the only fitting way to greet this development.<p>

When Itachi leaned up and kissed the underside of Neji's jaw, the pensive spell they were in was broken. Neji seemed to come to himself and rolled Itachi slowly to his back. He met the black gaze with his own as he solemnly positioned himself between thighs that Itachi spread just as gravely. They held there a moment, Neji's body quietly vibrating with strength and power and need. Itachi was trembling himself, he found. With anticipation, with those filaments, with a need to be closer to Neji, even as a sudden fear of the unknown sprang up in him. He quelled it ruthlessly, as those grey eyes asked a silent question. In answer, Itachi spread his legs a little wider, trying to overcome the sense of vulnerability this position gave him. He was gathered close, held in those strong arms-

-and filled to the point of bursting in one hard, commanding thrust of Neji's hips.

A pause, as the scream Itachi refused to voice was taken up by the flesh being stretched so viciously. An eternity, as his initial reaction of insult and revulsion was slowly replaced by a sense of inevitability; everything that had happened between them, from seeing Neji on a dock in Panama, to the actions done in this mine, all of it had led to this moment. There was some pain. The feel of Neji's heartbeat echoing in the flesh buried inside him. A few words at last, whispered at his temple: "Put your legs around me."

When he complied, Neji slid in to the hilt. Itachi closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Just breathing. Suddenly, there was too much happening. He felt as if no one anywhere would ever touch him so deeply or know him so completely, and he suddenly didn't want this intrusion to his body and soul. He wanted to remain as self-sufficient and contained as always, to keep his identity and control-

"Itachi?"

That voice. Whisper soft, and full of concern. Why did that voice have so much power over him? His mortification was a bright stain on his face, he was sure, but he opened his eyes and met Neji's stare.

Their faces were close. His head was cradled in Neji's hands. He could see pain on Neji's features, the same realization that things had gone too far, that there was no turning back. Neji slowly lowered his head and gave him a gentle kiss. Just a brush of his lips. Reassurance. As if Neji were saying, _if there's no going back, then we'll go forward together. _

Always, whenever he needed it, Neji was there for him. Even now. Itachi let the caress ease his fright; his muscles relaxed.

Their eyes held through those first deep, long, searching strokes. The pain intensified at first, but then it faded. The feel of another person in his body was…hard to describe. There was a sense of invasion, of being claimed… The hot, thick heat generated so much delicious friction, though, that the dismaying inevitability he'd been feeling shifted. Itachi was left on a slowly rising current of wonder and pleasure as he came to the understanding that everything they'd done before tonight hadn't been sex.

And despite those worrisome filaments, he hadn't been close to Neji.

_This_ was intimacy: the way those long, deep strokes slowly increased in pace and strength; the way each thrust sent warmth spreading through him until he melted completely around Neji, and put his arms around him as well; the way uncertainty fell away from them both as conscious thought fled before those ungodly thrusts, and they were left with the visceral essence of themselves.

Itachi felt his starved soul reach for Neji's, felt him answer wordlessly, their beings clinging together. Sewn into a seamless creature by those unbreakable filaments. A wildness burst free of Itachi, only to be met with Neji's own implacable force, and it was as if their bodies celebrated in passionate, maddened, pleasure-soaked intensity. Somewhere there was a question asked of him breathlessly, if he was all right, just as someplace there were animal sounds of ecstasy coming from him that were unrecognizable as his voice. It didn't matter. Neji was with him inside, where all was bright, and hot, and suffused with the searing, violent pleasure of their quickening movements.

_Neji…oh God..._


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: As it has been brutally, painfully, and extensively brought to my attention...I fucked up last chapter.

I honestly don't know what happened. There were things I meant to say, things that happened, things Neji and Itachi said that somehow just got lost. I choked. Lemons are hard under the best of circumstances. First time lemons between pairings are even more so. I'm embarrassed and ashamed, and I humbly apologize.

I tried to fix it. Put the chapter in surgery, so to speak, and tried to fix where I'd gone wrong. Three weeks of hell, that's all I can say. At first I couldn't even look at the chapter, or have anything to do with this story anymore. Tried anyway. Tried and tried, until I can truthfully say the story has died for me, and I can't wait for it to be over.

Amazingly enough, I did manage to excavate what I'd originally meant to convey with last chap. Blame it on a certain dream I had the other day. I've done what I can, and I'm happy with it. I'll just post up the chaps as they're completed and move on from this nightmare. And I will answer any reviews you leave when I can. I've saved the ones from last chap that I just couldn't bring myself to look at, so sick was I at the mess I'd made.

This probably makes no sense to anyone, and that's fine. I'm really grateful for your continued support. I appreciate the patience you guys have with me.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 12<span>

His world was reduced to the colors of pitch black and ghostly orange, and the lonely, maddening sound of the ocean lapping at the hull of the longboat he sat in. Around him were other vessels, some large craft, some as small as a rowboat, all carrying lanterns. He heard their shouts as men called to each other, seeking survivors or friends. Ahead of him lay the still-flaming ruins of Colón. Everyone in port had taken to the water in whatever stick of wood that wasn't burning, the way rats flee a sinking ship.

It was sometime between midnight and dawn. Friday. _Lightning_ had been attacked Tuesday evening. He'd been waiting here ever since Wednesday, a quarter of a mile offshore, eyes scanning the burning shore tirelessly. The stench of smoke was acrid in his nose, turning the night blacker, but he waited. He would wait till Hell froze.

Hands reached up out of the water, grasping the side of the long boat and tipping it sideways. Two, no three desperate faces smudged with soot reared up, looking for safety. Three deafening shots rang out directly behind him, sending the faces beneath the water, and still he had eyes only for the shoreline; he hadn't looked around at either the faces or the shots. He was too busy scanning the shoreline for a familiar stance, or a well-known set to a pair of shoulders, possibly accompanied by a stalwart redhead.

Lee and Shino exchanged a nervous glance as they reloaded. By unspoken agreement it was decided that Lee would speak. Shino remembered a certain broken arm the last time he'd dared to bring up Sasuke when Naruto was in this state. He would have preferred to be on _Whirlwind_, with Ei and Bee and the rest of the crew, but he and Lee were the best shots, and the water teemed with survivors of the fire seeking shelter from any craft.

"Naruto," Lee said gently.

"We're not leaving without him," Naruto said flatly. He sat hunched in the bow, one hand gripping the side, the other holding a pistol he never fired.

"It's been three days since the fire," Lee went on anyway. He felt a lot braver talking to a grief-stricken Naruto with a gun in his hand. "If they'd survived, they would have taken to the water like everyone else."

"And if he was dead I would know it," Naruto insisted in a harsh growl.

"Then let us go ashore!" Lee cried, fed up. "He could be lying hurt somewhere-"

"Kakashi already said there was no one around the offices, didn't he?" Naruto said. His tone was lowering to dangerous levels, a sure signal that he'd had enough talking. "And I myself went ashore two nights ago."

Lee made sure the pistol was lowered in front of him instead of to his side, thus making it easy to raise should he need to when he risked saying, "Then if you didn't find his remains-"

Naruto slowly turned his head to regard Lee with one frosty eye. Lee's hand spasmed on the trigger, nearly putting a hole in their boat, but he controlled himself in time. And let the matter drop.

Shino miserably gnawed on a dry biscuit. Naruto wouldn't budge, period. Never mind the fact that the shoreline was too far away to see any one person clearly enough to discern features or otherwise identify them. They would sit here until their food and ammunition were gone, and one of the fleeing survivors finally managed to capsize their boat.

Then again, Naruto did have the sharpest eyes of anyone Shino had ever met, so maybe…

That disastrous night when he'd finally come around, Wednesday it had been, Naruto had lost his mind. Kakashi had reiterated that Sasuke was gone, and bodies had flown. There'd been a mass rush for the cabin door as everyone tried to get away from that boiling rage. It had taken Ei locking his massive arm around Naruto's throat and Bee hanging on to the rest of him for Naruto to be still enough to even listen to reason…which he didn't. He swore in a shaking voice, through tears that wouldn't stop coursing down his face, that he was going back for Sasuke if he had to swim. That anyone who stopped him was dead, and that when he and Sasuke were finally reunited he would personally hunt them all down and put a bullet between their eyes.

In the silence that followed, Kakashi had ventured close enough to grab the big blond head and hold it steady. Naruto stopped struggling, pleading silently with the only father figure he'd ever known. "All right," Kakashi said quietly. "All right. We'll go back, but only for three days. After that we'll need provisions. We left with barely the necessities, and we have what's left of Ei's crew aboard to feed as well."

Naruto sagged into a dead faint then and there. Kakashi turned _Whirlwind_ around himself.

And here they waited, dawn of the third and final day only hours away. Shino didn't even want to think of what would happen when Sasuke failed to show. At that point he might just turn his pistol on himself rather than try to row Naruto back to _Whirlwind_.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hit him again."<em>

"_We don't have time, we need to keep running!"_

"_He's coming around again. Hit him!"_

Sasuke heard this frantic exchange of Japanese just before another blow to his splitting head sent him into oblivion once more.

When next he managed to open his eyes he was lying on his side on the ground, and his head felt positively vile. His hands were bound behind him, and a filthy length of material gagged his mouth. His feet were also tied.

Days of being carried in this fashion between the short, wiry bodies of several Japanese men had only intensified the injuries he'd received in that blast. Blood was caked and dried on his head, sealing one eye shut, and there was a burn along one shoulder blade that he suspected was infected; he was by turns hot and cold, and the area felt as if it was still on fire.

He tried to see his surroundings, but it was so dark that all he could make out were vague suggestions. He dimly saw that they were in a clearing, surrounded by more of the jungle-like trees and ferns they'd been traveling through. His kidnappers –there were seven that he could see- stood huddled around a map. One of them kept a look out, periodically sending a flat gaze his way to make sure he wasn't escaping.

_No fear of that_, Sasuke thought as a wave of dizziness claimed him. They kept him weak with only a mouthful of food and water once every several hours, and his injuries sapped him of whatever strength he had left. He lay with his face in the dirt, fading in and out of consciousness as the men jabbed at their tattered map and began speaking in mutters.

"_-have to get to Panama City…Nagato-dono waiting for us there with the ship-"_

"_Once Sasuke's in Japan, Madara-sama will-"_

"_-Too risky…kill him now…should have killed him with the fire-"_

"_That boy,"_ one hissed in rage.

That boy. They had to be talking about Gaara.

Sasuke remembered Gaara trying to get his attention when they'd been in the offices. He'd looked up from Itachi's letter, meaning to give a blistering reprimand for Gaara's sudden lack of obedience, only to find the boy flying toward him, face stretched wide in an expression of fear. Before he could ask Gaara what was wrong, he'd felt himself lifted bodily over the red head, and _thrown…_out of the window, to land on the street two stories below, just as the entire office building went up in a blaze of fire and sparks. Gaara had saved him at a cost to his own life. The pain of that had been a fist around his heart, even flying out of the window as he had been.

Thankfully, the impact hadn't broken any bones. Jarred him unmercifully, but nothing broken. He'd blacked out a moment, he was sure. When he opened his eyes, it was to see himself being surrounded by men, at least ten, and picked up between many hands. There had been a cart or wagon, he recalled hazily, and a jouncing ride through the uncivilized land outside Colón.

Somewhere during that first night, when delirium had kept his senses reeling, there had been shouts. Pursuit. The horses pulling the wagon had been slain, as well as three or four of the men. The wagon had been disabled some way, and the men had been forced to separate into two groups. One that carried him onward, and one that stayed behind to deal with the threat.

The group that stayed behind never returned.

-oOo-

"_Sh! Heard something…"_

Sasuke struggled to lift his head and listen, but all he heard was the warm wind in the trees. He stared with eyes blurred by fatigue and pain at the tree line beyond the clearing, just as the men were doing. There was nothing there but leaves and shadow…

It seemed like the leaves and shadow merged, took on human shape. That was the best Sasuke's stuttering mind could come up with for what happened next. A man covered in soot and dirt, with flashing green eyes, materialized from the shadows and extended his arms sharply. Barely a second later, two of the men went down with knives dead center of their foreheads. Long before this, though, the group of men swarmed toward the apparition and spread out, surrounding him.

Sasuke had time to feel a moment of despair for his would-be rescuer; the men were very skilled at the same sort of fighting his father had taught him. They converged on the green-eyed man, but here Sasuke doubted his eyes.

The man was a whirling dervish of flashing blades, and neatly executed maneuvers that avoided attack while landing his own. The group of men was thinned. Those left standing faltered, retreated, pressed in again…until at last it was only the dark man standing, his hand still extended in the final throw of a knife that had taken the leader of Sasuke's kidnappers in the back of the head as he'd turned to flee. Sasuke stared at where he fell, dazed.

"Sir!"

That familiar yell brought his head weakly around, and the man was coming toward him, falling to his knees and gently removing the gag. _Green eyes… _Not a man. "Gaara?" he rasped in disbelief. "Gaara…you're alive?"

"I'm here, sir. Oh God, you're _hurt_…"

It was him, his own Gaara. He could see strands of red peeking out of the dirt and grime coating Gaara's hair, and those eyes were unmistakable, all but glowing in his anxious face as he produced yet another knife and sawed through the rope binding his arms and legs. "Gaara," he breathed. Relief and love swelled in him, putting a feeble smile on his face. "How I prayed…"

"Can you walk, sir?"

"I…think so."

"If you can, I have a horse tied about a mile back. I would have been here sooner, but I had to stop and find one after I killed theirs-"

A fresh wave of dizziness threatened Sasuke's consciousness as Gaara got an arm around him and leveraged him to his feet. He was then left tottering on his own as Gaara took a few moments to retrieve his knives and clean them on one dead body. "How did you survive?" he asked when Gaara came back.

"Dove under the desk…then out the window on the other side of the office. By the time I got around the building I saw them carrying you off. Tried to run after you but I busted my ankle when I landed-"

Sasuke saw, at mention of the ankle, that Gaara was limping badly.

"And they had that fucking wagon…excuse me, sir…that damned wagon, and I only caught up when they'd stopped for water. Some of them stayed behind to fight me, but I killed them…"

Sasuke listened to the rest as they made their slow way back to the large draft animal Gaara had procured from a passing farmhouse. He swung into the saddle with difficulty, sitting behind Gaara and leaning forward against his sturdy back. Already, he was close to passing out again. "Where are we going?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Back to Colón. I don't know if Naruto is alive or what, but if he is, that's where he'll be looking for you."

"Gaara…" He wanted to thank him. To say how fortunate he was to have him and how glad he was to see him, but he could scarcely hold his head up. All that came out was a whispered, "I love you," before he was unconscious again.

Gaara warmed with intense pleasure and embarrassment. He felt his master's head droop forward onto the back of his neck, and smiled. Clicking to the restive horse, he turned for Colón.

* * *

><p>Neji woke sometime the following morning and, before he even opened his eyes, was quietly, potently furious. He came to his senses with his teeth already clenched and his fists balled where his forearms were stacked beneath his head. He could feel his nails digging into his palms. Upon further assessment, he could feel blood, half dried and sticky, caked beneath his nails.<p>

He didn't need to turn his head to feel Itachi against the right side of his body, nor did he need any time to recall last night. He'd gone to bed with the realizations clanging in his skull, and had apparently dreamed of them, though he remembered nothing but the blackness of sleep. He stared at the horses and the steaming pile of shit they'd left, as his mind _whirred_ with fury. It insisted on dragging out each point and holding it up for inspection.

Of course he'd been determined to the last to have control. No other way existed for him, not when it came to sex. But he'd settled for Itachi just letting him continue. It was a victory just to have the man enjoy his touch, close as he'd been to stopping Neji entirely. He'd never had a lover stop him like that, but then he'd never been quite so…undisciplined. Forceful, yes. _That_ forceful, no.

_Itachi, Itachi, Itachi,_ Neji thought scathingly. The man just wouldn't _bend_. And he'd given in. The way he always seemed to end up giving in to Itachi. And that, friends…that had been a mistake.

Neji shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, then stopped when Itachi moaned in his sleep behind him. He only relaxed again when the even breathing resumed.

He should have known. When Itachi had gotten that look in his eye before it all began. When he'd had the balls to demand Neji touch him differently. When he'd… Neji closed his eyes hard and swallowed. When Itachi had turned the tables on him, when he'd-

_-Itachi looking him dead in the eye as he licked a single, pearly white drop of spunk off his-_

Neji had to turn his face so that his forehead pressed against his wrists, pressed the image away. But it wouldn't go. And by then it had probably been to late, anyway. By then Itachi had unleashed himself, revealing an innate sensuality and taste for the carnal Neji had never even suspected. Hot blood was one thing, but what Itachi had done…

Never. He never allowed his lovers to touch him like that. His pleasure lay in control, and fucking his men senseless. That was _it_. But he loved Itachi, and-

That thought brought his eyes flying open on a sneer of wretched self-loathing.

Love. He _loved_ Itachi? What a fool he'd been. What a fool he still _was_. A _jackass_.

Yes, he'd loved Itachi. With all the ripe sentimentality of a youth's first love. Some green boy who knew _nothing_ of the emotion. Loved him the way any idiot freely and wholeheartedly loved an object that couldn't love back. Safely, that was how. Loving Itachi had been safe because the man had been oblivious, and he'd thrown his whole heart into it, believing somewhere in his diseased _shit_ of a mind that he was experiencing the noble emotion at last. What poets wrote about, what Naruto had nearly gone mad over, and what Sasuke had pined away a year of his life for. Now he had it, he'd told himself, and he'd suffer nobly for it too, him the strapping commoner loving the aloof aristocrat. Patiently waiting in the wings to be noticed, whereupon he would enslave Itachi with his touch, and they would engage in long, sweaty bouts of sex, with him the unquestionable victor.

Neji coldly reflected that if he had a pistol handy he would shoot his own brains out right here and now.

No, love was none of that. That was stupidity. Blindness. Arrogance. Not real.

Real was discovering the object of your affections did not behave as a whore, or some gutter rat, or an imaginary plaything. There had been many men in Neji's life, most of whom recognized the silvery glint in his eye as that of someone who brooked no challenge to his authority between the sheets. Those few who thought to top him, misled into thinking Neji's hair indicated a meek personality, were shown the door, often with Neji's boot helping them along. Whatever the case, Neji's partners had all received his attentions and left it at that. None of them had participated and given back as Itachi had. He wondered if all men who weren't whores did that. He'd never been with a man who hadn't been selling his ass for years.

Back to the matter at hand.

Real was having the person you loved show real emotions of his own. It was having him turn the tables on you, and claw his way into the stronghold of _your_ emotions and scratch them to bloody ribbons. _That_ was real, goddammit. Real was your control _gone_. Your stupid dreams of the two of you living as dominant and submissive out the fucking window. Your innards laid bare, your eternally independent nature fucked over, trounced, fucked again, and then left entwined with another's. Real was a man asking you to take him, and instead-

Neji cut off that line of thinking quickly.

Real was being vulnerable. Being at another's mercy after years spent working to ensure that you were _never _at another's mercy again.

Before he'd only loved Itachi. Now, Neji thought with dread, he thought he might be _in_ love with him as well.

And the worst part, the thing that had him so furious, was that it was all his fault. All of it, the whole mess. Hadn't he said that he didn't want Itachi to surrender? Had he expressly told the man not to hold anything back? Yes. Yes, he had. He'd wanted to have his pleasure without interference, forgetting all the while, as he _always_ seemed to forget, that Itachi always managed to surprise him and do the opposite of what he expected him to do.

Clenching his teeth, Neji admitted to himself that he was afraid. He always resorted to anger when he was afraid, but yes. He was horribly afraid that there'd be no running away this time. And that just pissed him off twice as bad. He did not deal in absolutes. Not anymore. Not the kind of absolutes where another had power over you. People who had power over you could hurt you.

He would not accept this.

For a moment he tried to find the feeling he'd had last night, at the moment of penetration. It hadn't all been bad, had it? No. Not even close. He remembered seeing fear and doubt on Itachi's face in that particular moment. Seeing the pain he withstood the same way he withstood anything. He thought his feelings would kill him then, they'd been so strong. That, he thought with a private shudder of misery. That right there might have been the moment he'd been screwed beyond repair. Fitting.

No, it hadn't been bad. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he'd never had a better night in his life. But there'd been some key moments last night, things he couldn't look at right now and that he was nonetheless powerless not to feel, that were scaring him shitless.

_I need air. _He got up quietly and dressed. He took the boards down as noiselessly as he could, then went and untied the horses. They whickered softly at his approach. He was gone a moment later, and breathed a sigh of relief at escaping without waking Itachi. He couldn't face him right now. _Just need to think. Get a handle on things._

* * *

><p>It couldn't have been much past sunrise, perhaps an hour or two, when Itachi opened his eyes. Light reached into the mine from the unboarded entrance and cast a warm yellow glow inside. He saw that the horses were gone, but more importantly, that Neji was also gone. That was good. He didn't think he could face the man just yet.<p>

His eyes fell on a scrap of linen not far from where he sat. There was a tin cup of steaming black coffee, three warm rolls dripping butter, and a huge slab of new-baked bread slathered with jam, and topped with an enormous dollop of fresh cream.

He couldn't imagine where Neji had found this feast out here in the woods, but the fact that the food was still warm wasn't lost on him.

A drop of butter oozed over the browned curve of one bun and Itachi was helpless not to remember a similar drop of sweat running down the side of Neji's face. It had been there, near the end, when Neji had been inside him and over him and-

Itachi looked away at remembering how he'd leaned up and boldly ran his tongue up the side of Neji's face, licking away the sweat before dragging him down for a salty kiss.

His eyes closed in dismay. A moment later he opened them and raised his chin, refusing to cower at his actions.

He wasn't sure what to make of last night. Staring at the sunlight, and the way it illuminated the dirt floor, he saw a row of ants making a beeline for his breakfast. He reached over to lift the linen onto his lap.

Scenes replayed themselves in his mind. Scents. Sounds. Emotions…

Itachi thoughtfully lifted a bun and bit into it. It didn't seem possible that he could behave so crudely or do half, or even a tenth, of the things he'd done last night…and yet he had. Shame tried to weigh him down, but wasn't last night precisely what two lovers did with one another? What poems and literature and songs were always on about? Never in the wanton way he'd behaved last night, but that was what they alluded to, wasn't it? The soaring, burning union of two souls made one?

He nearly choked on the bun and reached for the coffee. What had taken place last night was a good deal more substantial than any song or poem he'd ever heard.

And he regretted none of it, he decided abruptly. He felt…empowered. Amazingly so. Armed with Neji's assertion that the only rule was indulgence, he realized there _was_ no other way he could have behaved. Not given the way he felt about Neji. He recalled wondering if what he felt was love. Remembered those filaments that he could feel even now, in the quiet clarity of day. _Yes. I love him, _he thought with cautious pride. _I do. _His being was vibrantly alive with it, tingling and sizzling even now, with the man gone. He spent several moments smiling at nothing, and letting the feeling rush through him in giddy waves. _I love Neji._

Polishing off a last dollop of cream, Itachi settled down to give his entire attention to the situation. The ramifications would run deep, he thought analytically. This was not the flowery emotion he associated with besotted women. And he was no lovesick fop. This was no casual dalliance on his part, or fickle romance. He sensed that what he felt was real and powerful, with the potential to do great damage.

If he needed confirmation, he had only to remember Sasuke. Love had laid him low. Sasuke tended to weather pain or any high emotion in silence, as he did his fury. He, Itachi reminded himself, was not like Sasuke. They were different. He was not the type to suffer in silence. Far from it. He was more apt to share his misery, as Sasuke liked to put it. Another smile graced his lips as he drained the coffee to its dregs. If Neji thought to treat him as Naruto had treated his brother, then the man was in for a rude awakening. His smile widened at visions of chasing Neji down and sinking whatever ship he tried to flee in. Then he sobered. He had no idea what would happen now, or if things were changed between him and Neji. He suspected they were…he just didn't know how.

He wondered just what Neji's feelings were, if they were the same at all. He supposed he'd be finding out soon enough; he could hear snapping twigs approaching the mine. For himself, he rather thought it was premature in the game for declarations. Women were the ones who went about sighing of their love. Men were expected to behave with a bit more discretion. And naturally, they would need time to sort through whatever feelings they did have. Perhaps to talk. Make plans. There was no rush that he could see.

All in all, though, he was rather proud of how he'd carried himself last night. During the day he would behave with caution and the proper deportment, but at night…at night the rules were put to bed and he could be with Neji again, and be freer than he'd ever been in his life. A heady thought.

As Neji ducked into the mine, Itachi squared his shoulders, ready for what the day would bring.

* * *

><p><em>Nothing's changed, <em>Neji told himself for the tenth time as he approached the mine. _Not really. He's never submitted to anyone a day in his life. It's fine. He can learn. He'll have to, if we're to continue, and I want to continue with him. I had a bad moment this morning, but nothing's changed. He just needs to learn who's in charge at night. Or whenever we fuck. I'm fine. Everything's fine. I still want him. I still-_

No. He wasn't going to think about love. That was one mess he didn't have the strength to untangle just now. Once in the mine, he saw that Itachi was awake. Alert and obviously fed.

He assessed the look on Itachi's face and correctly assumed that talk of last night was still premature. Still, he couldn't resist making a stab at humor. Anything to lessen the sudden tension he felt. "I'm surprised you're able to sit up this morning."

Itachi's eyes went flat, and Neji bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Ah, that was better.

"I see you've eaten," he continued. "I took the horses out to graze. Found a township a few miles away. We can be there by nightfall. And there's a stream not too far from here, in case you want to clean up."

Itachi carefully set the tin cup aside, before averting his eyes and nodding. It was another minute before Neji realized that he was waiting for privacy before putting the blanket aside to get dressed. Resisting the urge to shake his head, Neji left to go wait outside.

-oOo-

A dressed Itachi emerged some minutes later and squinted in the bright light. "It's…warm," he said with some surprise.

"A lot warmer than yesterday," Neji agreed. _That's it, talk about the weather. Steer clear of last night. _He began walking away and Itachi followed. "Warm enough so there's a massive thaw going on."

Indeed, Itachi could hear evidence of this all over the woods. Icicles were snapping and falling from overhead branches, and the leaves underfoot were soggy. He could hear the running water before he saw it.

Neji stopped after thirty minutes at a modest stream no more than two paces wide. Following where Neji pointed, Itachi saw a hillock topped by a shelf of rock that jutted out a couple of feet over the stream a hundred yards away. Water cascaded over this shelf of rock in a small waterfall that fed into the stream. Neji began walking towards the waterfall.

On closer inspection, Itachi saw that the hillock had been naturally hollowed out directly beneath the rock shelf, so that there was a pocket of space immediately behind the waterfalls itself. The water gathered in a shallow, crystal clear pool surrounded by mossy banks. Judging by the spray hitting his face, Itachi surmised that the water was frigid. "I can't bathe in that," he said, aghast. "I'd catch my death."

For a moment, Neji saw a pair of black eyes surrounded by black hair, a face lowering over his cock. It was hard to believe that man now stood querulously arguing over the temperature of his bath water. He gave himself a mental shake, dispelling the image, and reminding himself to think of anything but that.

Forcing a grin, he said, "No? I seem to recall Sasuke bathing in colder water aboard _Whirlwind_ sometimes, or else in the ocean itself. He told me tales of when your father made you each bathe in water filled with ice. Sasuke always said as how anything he did, his brother could do ten times better. Seems he was wrong."

Itachi's lips thinned to a straight line. "If you think to goad me into setting one toe in that water by such a poor attempt to prey on my vanity, you are sadly mistaken."

Neji shrugged and went to squat at the stream's edge, cupping water in his hands and splashing it on his face. A moment later, he had to turn his head aside to hide his smirk; Itachi had stripped to his underwear and was striding purposefully into the waterfall.

Itachi _did_ recall those lessons with his father, and would be twice damned if he forgot them now so that Neji could sneer at him. Insufferable reprobate. The water was cold, but not intolerably so. Especially since the falls stood in a bright patch of sunlight. He had only to grit his teeth until his body adjusted to the temperature, and then the feeling of sluicing away all the sweat and grime of the past two days felt divine. He reached up to scratch at his itchy scalp, but a pair of strong, masculine hands was there before him, settling into his hair. He turned sharply and was faced with the broad, wet wall of Neji's bare chest.

-oOo-

He'd sat on his heels and stared at Itachi while the man's back was turned, all pretenses at humor set aside. He could see scratches and bruises on his back and legs. Some were faded and obviously from Akatsuki's attack, but the rest were fresh. He could see the imprint of his fingers here and there. Itachi hadn't been gentle either, if his own bruises were any indication. He'd loved that, he recalled. Not having to be gentle anymore or hold his passion in check. He'd loved Itachi's forcefulness, so why was he so upset? Why did looking at that slicked-back hair make him long to yank it? Why did he want to shove Itachi to the stony wall and bend him to his will? Break him to it if necessary? Was it only because he had to have his way, or was he really terrified of the things he'd felt last night?

He didn't know. Didn't want to know. What he did know was that his taunting had upset Itachi and that the man's shoulders were stiff with insult. Whatever issues Neji had privately with their encounter, he didn't want to drive a wedge between them. Not when things were going so well otherwise.

Maybe he shouldn't have touched him, he thought when he tried to wash Itachi's hair. He'd more or less told himself they needed time before jumping into the sack again, but he'd been unable to resist. His body snapped to life the moment their fingers grazed each other, and heat managed to gather in his center despite the fact that he was knee deep in icy stream water. Itachi turned around, his lashes dripping…and Neji moved into the falls with him, so that Itachi was crowded against the hollow behind with nowhere else to go. He tried to act as if he was there to bathe.

-oOo-

Itachi blinked. For all intents and purposes, Neji appeared to be oblivious to him, leaning his head back in the falls so that his hair was drenched. Itachi turned right, meaning to go around him and return to the bank, but Neji casually lifted one arm and leaned his hand on the rocky wall. He turned left, and Neji's other arm came up. Caged and refusing to look up into what he knew would be a smug expression, Itachi was left staring at the points of Neji's nipples, both of which were stiff from the cold water. Then he glanced down and saw that Neji was stiff elsewhere, and without underwear, and wondered if the water was the reason after all. An image of Neji plunging into him repeatedly, over and over, left him wonderfully warm. He swallowed painfully, lifting his chin. "Let me pass."

Neji looked down in surprise, as if just realizing Itachi was there. "I'm not stopping you."

"Remove your arms then."

"Where would you like them?"

Itachi's jaw flexed. He told himself that Neji's ever-present insolence was probably so ingrained as to be automatic, and that it was this that annoyed him, not a desire to tell him exactly where to put those arms. Clearly, if Neji wanted to touch him, he'd do so, as he'd done last night. Something had happened between last night and this morning to put Neji off, and he, Itachi, would swallow his tongue before he lowered himself to ask what it was.

He gathered the courage to meet those cool grey eyes. They were waiting for him, looking down at him, but the face wasn't smug. It was intent, focused completely on him, the way it had been last night. His heart did a hard lurching gallop in his chest, and he wondered what Neji was thinking. If he was thinking of closing the distance between them. If he was thinking of last night.

But this wasn't last night. It was high bright day time, and he didn't think he was ready to live through another round such as they'd had last night. "Kindly step aside, please."

Neji step forward, right into him, so that their chests brushed each other.

A sudden urge to climb that chest left Itachi breathless. "Why are you doing this?" he rasped.

"Doing what?"

"Behaving as if…

"As if…what? We're lovers?"

Itachi flinched. "Is _that_ what you're doing?"

Neji pondered this. Decided to ignore it. "You flinched at the word lover. Are you ashamed?" he asked.

"No," Itachi admitted after some thought. "Not really."

Neji studied the reddening face a moment. Had a brief argument with himself. _Fuck this._ "Come here."

Itachi looked up sharply at the husky tone. "Here is hardly the place for us to enact a repeat of last night's performances."

"I see." Neji stepped even closer, noting the way Itachi refused to back away. "And what did you think of last night's performances?"

Itachi's face colored even more. "I hardly think that a fitting topic of conversation."

"I thought you were magnificent," he said, as if Itachi hadn't spoken. He lifted a hand to let his fingertips graze down the faint hill of Itachi's bicep. "So wild, so…_hot_."

Itachi started to protest at the touch, but the way Neji's eyes darkened froze the words on his lips. "I…apologize. I was a bit undisciplined."

Always surprising him, Neji mused. The man actually apologized. His hand snaked out and pulled Itachi up sharply against him, so that they were pressed together for the entire length of their bodies.

Itachi pushed at him halfheartedly, turning his face away when Neji leaned down. But then the next moment he was all over the taller man, pulling him in, drinking from his mouth and savoring the heat of his body. Neji was no better, resolve utterly gone as he spun Itachi face first to the wall behind the watery curtain. They stood there quivering a moment, panting.

Both of them still, as they realized it was happening all over again.

Itachi shifted against the hot pillar of flesh rising against his back. "Neji-"

His plea was answered before he could voice it as Neji lightly covered his mouth with one hand. The rounded head of that pillar slipped between his wet nether cheeks, feeling hot as a brand compared to the freezing water. It nosed its way over his entrance. He was being stretched and filled on the next breath, his head pulled back to rest against Neji's shoulder, and Neji's mouth fastening hotly to the opposite side of his neck. Another push of those hips and Neji was firmly sheathed, lifting Itachi against the wall, where his own erection grazed the stones.

The hand slid off his mouth, over his chin, to lightly encircle his neck. The other hand passed over the chilled flesh of Itachi's chest, rubbing over the hardened peaks of his nipples. The heat of Neji's hand was a tantalizing contrast to the cold spray coming from the falls. His fingers circled and pinched at Itachi's nipples until the latter's sphincter was contracting rhythmically on the fiery shaft buried inside him. Itachi's groan of pleasure was both long and heartfelt. Neji curled around him, pulling him back at the same time to meet the languorous thrusts he doled out at slow intervals. Timed with the soft kisses Neji's lips left on his neck and jaw, and the continued attention to his nipples, Itachi could hardly believe he'd thought he could survive for any length of time without this. Having experienced it, he would never stop wanting Neji, he suspected.

That slow glide of flesh took up all his focus- the friction as it rasped in and out of him, the feel of Neji's hard stomach pressing against his buttocks, and the hand Neji now settled on his flank-

Neji cupped his face now and angled it sharply so that he could meet his eyes. "You like this?" he asked in a low voice.

Itachi found Neji's face and voice utterly mesmerizing when the man was caught in the grip of lust, as he was now. "Y-yes," he gasped.

Neji lowered his hand to Itachi's bobbing cock and squeezed in counterpoint to his thrusts. "How about that?"

"_Yes_."

Neji leaned in close again and spoke by his ear. "You don't know how much I love touching you."

Itachi's muscles all went suddenly weak. Neji's arms tightened about him possessively. He let himself be held, wallowing in the embrace in tight-lipped silence, but the steady, meaty sound of their hips slapping together nearly drove him mad. When he could stand it no more, he put his head back against Neji and let loose the deep moans choking him, dizzy at the depth of those thrusts and the pleasure they gave him.

* * *

><p>A loud <em>thwok <em>had Sasuke jerking awake. He found himself propped against a tree trunk, with his legs stretched out in front of him and the horse grazing on grass right by his hip. A few yards away, Gaara had a hairy coconut in his hand. He lifted it above his head and brought it down sharply against a rock jutting out of the ground. This was the sound Sasuke had heard. There was a crack, then Gaara was running over to him in a crouch to put the coconut to his lips before all the milk ran out. Sasuke drank thirstily, feeling some strength return to him at the sustenance.

When he was done, Gaara took it away and produced a thin blade, one he thankfully hadn't used on Sasuke's attackers. He dug the edge of this blade into the crack in the coconut and pried it open. Digging out a sizable piece of the white meat within, he held it out for Sasuke to take.

Sasuke chewed as he glanced upward, then shut his eyes at the sharp glare. "What time is it?"

Gaara was in the process of digging out his own piece. His answer was a grunt. "Round noon, I guess?"

"How far are we from the port?"

"Hours yet. But we're making good time," he rushed to add when he saw Sasuke's crestfallen look. "Those bastard had you for days, and were slowed by having to carry you. We're already halfway back. I bet you're eager to see Naruto, right sir?"

"I am." Sasuke polished off the rest of his piece of coconut. "But that's not the reason we need to hurry. I have to get to my brother. He's in trouble, Gaara."

Gaara crunched on his piece thoughtfully. "But he's not alone. Neji and Hinata are there."

"One is a servant and the other a woman. What do you think they can do against this Madara?"

Gaara nearly choked. "What can they-! Sir, forgive me, but Neji's a fighter, you know that. And Hinata…well, where do you think I learned what I know? _Sir_?"

"From _them_?" Sasuke sat up straighter with difficulty. "Surely not!"

"I sure did," Gaara nodded emphatically. "From Hinata, anyway. Neji was too busy looking to poke your brother to pay me much mind-"

Sasuke held up a hand. "Wait a moment. You knew of that?"

"Who in that house didn't! Was all over Neji's face whenever your brother walked by. Anyway, Neji's good, but Hinata's better. She taught me. She and Neji are both with him, so your brother's probably fine. Neji told me to watch out for you, and said he'd watch out for Itachi."

Sasuke sat blinking in shock. Then he remembered something and his hand flew to his chest, where he'd stuffed the last few pages of Itachi's letter. By some miracle the pages were still there, if sweat-stained and badly rumpled. He held them reverently, thanking his good fortune that his kidnappers hadn't thought to search him for anything other than weapons. "He still needs me," he said quietly. "The people who blew up the offices work for Madara, and if that's what my brother is facing… I can't let him face this threat alone. He needs me," he said again.

"He needs you safe, sir. And I'm to see that you're safe."

Studying Gaara's resolute face, Sasuke wisely said no more, but continued to hold the pages in his hand. _Itachi, I hope you're all right._

* * *

><p>Itachi was in the process of withstanding a second round of Neji's attentions. They were still at the falls, and this time Itachi's back was to the stone. Neji had his leg thrown ignominiously over one of his arms as he thrust into him with measured fury, jarring Itachi's breath with each stroke. Itachi had one hand hooked behind Neji's neck, hanging on for support, while the other gripped Neji's shoulder hard.<p>

"Touch yourself," Neji gasped.

Itachi could barely understand speech by this point. Neji's thick length drilled into him again and again, painful yet so deliciously _good_ that he was almost faint. He only roused himself as Neji suited action to words and grabbed his shaft himself, working it in time to his thrusts, and then it was only to mutter, "Stop…I can't take anymore…"

_That's more like it, _Neji thought, pleased. This was how it should have been last night, with him having the upper hand. He leaned down to whisper, "Yes, you can," right before he covered Itachi's mouth with his own.

Itachi rather thought Neji's faith in his strength misplaced: he clung to the man through his weak climax, and was unable to mask the way his limbs shivered in the aftermath. He'd hoped to acquit himself as well as he had last night, but he had no strength at all this morning, it seemed. Neji's long, hot body felt divine against him; he wanted only to press as much of himself to the heated skin as possible.

-oOo-

After, Neji led him from the falls like a child, and handed him his clothing. Itachi dressed in silence, eyes drooping with fatigue, and his mind too numb to form coherent thoughts.

Neji suddenly turned and pinned him with a serious stare. "How do you see us progressing?"

Itachi blinked. Seemed as though they were to have the conversation about last night now, then. "Progressing? Well… privately, of course. We may touch and…and carry on in private. In public, we are to behave properly."

Neji narrowed his eyes. "By properly, do you mean that I'm to defer to your superiority by day?"

"Well…yes. Insofar as I _am_ higher than you are. And I rather think that in private I should be allowed a measure of control as well, like last night. You didn't seem to mind it after..." He looked down at his hands, embarrassed in spite of himself.

A few seconds went by as Neji processed this. It was actually a relief to find justification for how he'd felt this morning. He'd felt like a brute, all because he had control issues. He'd been flogging himself, willing to admit that he was selfish and a boor, and ten kinds of an animal…only to have Itachi remind him just why it was he needed the control in the first place. He almost thanked him; life made sense again.

He spoke slowly, as if to someone who had difficulty understanding simple matters…which was how he currently viewed Itachi. "I don't work for you. Why, then, would I behave as your servant?"

"Well-"

"And I can't help but notice that we're back to the whole private lovers issue. I didn't like it the first time you presented it, and I don't like it now. I realize that such a relationship has to _be_ private, but I'll be damned if I bow and scrape to you to appease your vanity. Contrary to what you seem to think, I'm not low-born. I'm Hyuuga. Branch member or not, you would do well to remember that. I'm no more beneath you than your brother is, and I won't behave as if I am."

But Sasuke _was_ beneath him by way of being the younger son, Itachi thought. "You were my servant for a year-"

"At my choosing. Not because I was born to the station or because I feel you're better than I am." Neji lowered his chin now and added in a deeper voice, "Nor am I the kind of man who bends over for another."

Studying those darkened eyes, Itachi nodded. "I see. I never asked you to bend for me, but it seems you have very strong feelings against what I perceive as the only possible way for us to proceed. It...looks as though we won't suit, if that's how you feel about it." He tried to deny the strong feelings _he_ was having against that thought.

Neji was taken aback. "Not suit? That's it? You can't even compromise, can you. Tell me, have you ever associated with someone who didn't serve you or who wasn't beneath you in some other way?"

Itachi strove for reason. "I don't see why you're so angry. Last night…was last night. We can do those things with each other _at_ _night_, but you must see how any hint of a relationship between us during the day is strictly out of the question?"

_He's serious, _Neji marveled. _My issues aside, he really believes it's possible to swing from one extreme to the other like that. _"I can't live like that, Itachi. I don't think anyone can. I waited for you. Waited for you to see me, and last night I thought you did. I thought we'd finally…gotten past the obstacles. You honestly think I could go back to serving you after all that?"

"You needn't serve me," Itachi said, trying to understand Neji's upset. "After all, you've left my service…but how do you propose we behave, Neji? As man and wife?"

"As companions. Nothing overt, but definitely not you lording it over me. I'm not even asking for anything public, just for you to stop seeing me as your hound."

"I've never seen you like that!"

"Then you see me as your equal? As stronger, and more experienced than you when it comes to bed matters? When it comes to a lot of things? Can _you_ defer to _me_?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes." Neji held his breath.

"Then… I'm sorry, but no. I can't."

"Well," Neji said on a deep breath. His face was suddenly smooth and devoid of all emotion. "I guess that's it, then. We should go back to the mine and pack our things if we want to make that township before nightfall. I took the liberty of sending a telegram to Hinata early this morning when I visited. With luck she'll have a reply sent to us by tomorrow."

Itachi stared in disbelief when Neji turned and began walking, unable to comprehend what had happened. How did they go from last night, from...from everything they'd shared, to this? This morning he'd basked in the knowledge that he loved Neji, and hoped the feeling was returned. Now he was watching Neji walk away from him.

If his wife had spoken to him like that, he'd have slapped her and that would have been the end. But that was Neji. Neji was a man, they weren't married, and he had no idea what the rules for men were _outside_ of bed. Maybe it was better that the matter be put to rest between them here and now. Before things got too far out of hand.

He suddenly felt very ill.

* * *

><p>They could smell Colón long before they reached it. The stink of smoke and burnt flesh drifted far away from the still smoldering remains of the port. One would think that days after the event, the fire would have died down and the city evacuated, but Sasuke and Gaara could see people rushing about to and fro, trying to douse the flames, or else looting and rioting. Fire still licked at the sky here and there. All else was smoke and ash, and despairing screams.<p>

"This is madness," Sasuke wheezed around a filthy handkerchief. He was much restored after only a few hours of Gaara's attentions, but the smoke was thick. His eyes watered profusely. "How can we possibly find Naruto in all this?"

Gaara shook his head, then stopped and pointed. "Look, sir. The water…everyone's heading there. Wasn't Naruto going with that darkie Ei to see his ship? Maybe he's still on it!"

"That's possible," Sasuke allowed, scanning the teeming shore. "But I've no idea what that ship looks like, or where we're even to get a boat ourselves. The water is chaos more so than the city."

It was true. By the dim orange light of the flames, they could see the docks, what was left of them anyway, boiling with humanity. "He'd be at sea, away from all this," Gaara said slowly. "But close by. He wouldn't leave without knowing you were safe. Or dead."

"Who's to say he didn't search the office building and come to the conclusion that I _am_ dead? I don't think he's here. I think we must find passage on a ship and make for New York. My brother-" He stopped as a fit of coughing took him.

"I understand, sir," Gaara said. "But let's first try to find Naruto, at least. Then we can worry about your brother. If anything, Naruto will get you there faster than any other ship." _And hunt my carcass down if he knew I kept you from him when he thought you were dead. _An enraged Naruto was not something Gaara ever wanted to see, especially since he and Naruto only tolerated each other at best.

Sasuke suddenly remembered that Naruto had known his brother was in danger. "Perhaps you're right. Very well, we need a boat."

"I don't see any to be had…not unless we took one from someone else." Doubt clouded his face; even the smallest rowboats were struggling beneath the weight of three times the amount of people they could carry, and there were countless fights in progress over them to begin with. "Maybe- hey!"

Sasuke stood up and began walking decisively toward a mid-sized craft in the process of turning away passengers at gunpoint. It was the only one not packed to capacity with people. Gaara ran to catch up, nearly blacking out at the pain this caused his ankle, then limped at Sasuke's side. "Sir, the captain of that boat doesn't look too friendly-"

"You there!" Sasuke called to the very captain in question. People ran all about them, knocking into them and running on. The captain had a hard time hearing Sasuke much less seeing him, but when Sasuke raised his voice and shouted again, the man swung his head and stared in their direction. "We need passage on your vessel," Sasuke said crisply. He experienced a mild sense of déjà vu; he and his brother had approached a man similar to this the night he'd run away from New York.

The captain saw two filthy men, both of whom seemed injured and not at all in possession of anything that would buy them passage. He ignored them.

Sasuke set his face and walked forward onto the gangplank. Three men tried to shove him back. There was a squawk, a hiss; Sasuke dropped two of them with his bare hands. The third took Gaara's blade in the space beneath his ribs and toppled to the water quietly. The score of people in their immediate vicinity backed away, but two crewmen on the ship came thumping down the gangplank to press the barrels of their guns to Sasuke and Gaara's heads.

"Hold," the captain called from his position at the railing. He looked down at them, his attention definitely caught. "Bring them."

-oOo-

Sasuke and Gaara were shoved up to the main deck and looked over from head to toe by the captain, who appeared to be prosperous, but had a villainous cast to his swarthy features. "Where you bound?" he asked mildly.

"I'm looking for someone," Sasuke said stiffly. His eyes remained on the captain's face, but he was very aware of the other crewmen closing in on him and Gaara, surrounding them. "Uzumaki Naruto."

The captain nodded. "I know him. Word is _Whirlwind_ was out there on the water for three days, and Naruto himself in a longboat, shootin' people who came too close. Heard _Whirlwind_ picked up anchor not an hour gone."

Something in Sasuke lit up, and this showed on his face. "He was waiting for me! I must reach him."

"And what'll you be paying me for the inconvenience of taking you?"

Sasuke blinked. "When I reach a port-"

The captain turned away. "No deal. Kill them."

Two crewmen lifted their weapons, but Sasuke hastened to shout, "Wait! If you can't take us, then let us go back to shore to find someone who will. Why kill us?"

The captain turned back to give a retort at the same moment that a burning building not too far from them finally succumbed and collapsed in a great flare of sparks. The light that briefly brightened the wharf landed on Sasuke and Gaara both, illuminating them properly, but it was Gaara the captain had eyes for. He switched tactics. "Maybe you're right," he said, holding his hand out for a lantern. A crewman handed him one and he held it up to Gaara's face.

They'd had to wade across a wide stream at one point, so much of the dirt and grime that had covered Gaara was gone. He wasn't clean by any standards, but his hair gleamed with its own fire and his eyes were a rare shade of green. Coupled with his youthful musculature and obviously tender years, it was no wonder the captain hummed in appreciation. "I'll give you passage," he announced as he handed the lantern back, "for the price of the boy here."

"You're earlier assessment was correct," Sasuke bit out. "No deal. Gaara. Come."

Gaara remained where he was.

"Gaara?"

"Forgive me, sir, but we need to get to Naruto. There _is_ no other boat to be had, and all this man wants is a poke. I can…I can do it."

"Absolutely not!" Sasuke moved to take Gaara's arm, and had his path blocked by two burly crewmen. He shoved them away violently, only to be forcibly restrained by two more closing ranks around him. "Gaara!" Sasuke's face was horrified.

The captain waited only a moment. Sure now that Sasuke wouldn't be a problem, he grunted. "Pull out!" he called to his men. He walked forward and fingered Gaara's hair, before he took him by the shoulder and steered him below decks. "_Whirlwind_ was heading south last we heard." He paused here as much for Sasuke's benefit as Gaara's. "And I'll be wantin' much more than a poke for this. Once I leave you with _Whirlwind_ I'll be keeping the boy. Permanently. Got a long haul ahead and healthy young arse is damned hard to come by." He shoved Gaara ahead of him and out of sight.

-oOo-

Gaara could have had the man singing his death rattle a dozen times over, but he held himself in check as he was pushed through a small door and into a cramped cabin. If this was the only way to Naruto, and through him to Itachi, then he would suffer the poke in silence. He'd find a way to jump ship and accompany Sasuke once they reached _Whirlwind_, but for now he needed to do his duty.

The captain spent a lot of time rubbing his face into Gaara's hair, and pinching his arms and ass appreciatively before he finally began undoing his trousers. Gaara stood still for it all, aware of the ship moving and a lot of shouting going on up top on the deck. He eyed the mottled skin of the captain's prick with dispassionate eyes, before he was curtly turned around and made to lean over a tiny desk. He felt hot breath on his neck and closed his eyes with a shudder of dislike.

The distant shouting on the deck grew louder, now accompanied by faint pops of sound, as a glob of spit hit his backside and was spread around. Just as the tip of the captain's cock parted his tightly clenched cheeks, there was a loud shot, a roar, then another shot. The captain whirled around just as his door was kicked open with enough force to shatter the lock. Sasuke stood there, eyes full of black fury, and with a gun pointed at the captain's head.

"No," the captain breathed. He reached for his own gun, but found a knife suddenly pressed to his neck.

"I took care of most of the men up top, but they'll be coming around soon," Sasuke said in a shaking voice. "See to them."

Close to choking on emotion, Gaara sheathed his blade. He blinked his eyes clear as he dashed out of the cabin to obey.

Alone with the captain, Sasuke walked forward slowly. "And as for you," he seethed. "You will take me to the _Whirlwind_, wherever she is, and do it for the very _generous_ payment of my mercy."

The captain, his arousal now wilted completely, nodded quickly to show that he understood. "H-how? I had twenty men…" One man couldn't overpower so many.

Sasuke didn't bother to answer. Quite simply, he'd had enough. His brother was under attack, he himself had nearly been blown to Christ and kdnapped, and Naruto was in the process of sailing away from him, likely under the belief that he was dead. Itachi had admonished him in his letter to be careful and keep his eyes open because he knew, as few did, that if vigilant there was very little Sasuke couldn't handle. His kidnappers had taken him unawares, but he was no longer operating with blinders on. He'd heard what wasn't said in the letter, which was that his brother needed him. Sasuke intended to get to him, and no pock-marked, whore's son of a captain was going to stop him.

First Naruto. Then his brother.

"Get your sniveling ass to the main deck and make this dung heap sail like the bloody wind," Sasuke snarled in a low voice. "And thank whatever god you pray to that I've left you half your crew. Pray as well that my manservant leaves you the other half. _I said move_!"

The captain dragged his pants up, swerved to avoid the pistol, and lurched out of the cabin with Sasuke on his heels.

* * *

><p>Kakashi, Bee, and Ei stood in a huddle with Shino and Lee on <em>Whirlwind's<em> main deck as Shino made his report.

"It was awful," Shino whispered. "When Lee said it was time, Naruto didn't even put up a fight. Just sat in the bow staring at the shore. Like he'd died bit by bit during the three days we were out there. Just ignored us when he began rowing back. Didn't cry, nothing. Let us come back here without so much as a peep. I don't like it. That kind of grief…it's not healthy." He shook his dark head dolefully.

Kakashi looked toward the captain's cabin, where Naruto had been shut since they'd come back. "Nothing we can do for him. We'll be in Panama City soon, where I expect a telegram from Sasuke's brother will be waiting. Thank God I was able to get one to him before the fire really spread." He, too, shook his head. "What a mess."

-oOo-

Naruto stood at the window in his cabin and continued to stare toward the shore even after it was out of sight. He would come back, he vowed. He would search every charred stick and pile of ash himself until there could be no doubt. He was close, very close, to completely losing his mind. Worse than he had when they'd told him Sasuke was dead. Worse than when he'd left Sasuke in Panama. He held onto the promise of returning grimly, in the grip of a different sort of insanity, one that did the job of holding the splintered parts of himself together.

He dropped his head to the windowsill as he stared out at the other ships on the water, all fleeing to other ports with all the valuables they could carry. Those who'd lived and worked out of Colón had been hit hardest, nearly all their possessions destroyed. Simple merchants who'd been passing through had fared better. Naruto kept himself thinking along this line of thought, anything to hold the yawning chasm of grief and madness at bay.

Even as he watched, one of those merchant vessels was gliding between the other ships and boats, making good head way not only with her sails full, but with oars beating the water in frantic time, pulling savagely so that the surrounding ships were quickly passed. Norry, he thought the captain of that vessel was called. He only knew of him because they shared a similar appetite for men…but that wasn't Norry at the bow, hailing _Whirlwind_.

Squinting as the ship pulled close, Naruto could just make out Norry at the wheel as he distantly heard Shikamaru and Kankurou yell a warning for the ship not to come any closer. Then Kankurou yelled something else, and Naruto's eyes caught a head of red hair…on someone who had Norry at gunpoint. Bowels suddenly freezing, Naruto's eyes swept the main deck of the ship –he couldn't remember the name of it to save his life- and saw the person in the bow again, saw him shouting, saw that he was disheveled and bleeding, but still as aristocratic as ever…

-oOo-

Bee and Ei spun around with guns raised when the captain's cabin door flew apart. One large, human locomotive burst through it and streaked for the railing. "Chis' Jesus," Ei muttered.

"_Sasuke_!" Naruto bawled at the top of his lungs. Shikamaru had already spotted him and given the order to trim the sails. Naruto was joined at the railing by a sudden rush of his crew.

Sasuke was being lowered in a small boat with Gaara, but Naruto dove cleanly overboard to meet him, too crazed and impatient to wait.

_Whirlwind's_ crew watched with bated breath.

Naruto surfaced and struck out for the rowboat in powerful strokes. He reached it a moment later and capsized the thing in his haste to climb aboard. Sasuke was no better, leaping for Naruto even as the boat was turning. Gaara came up spluttering, but by then Naruto had Sasuke in a death grip, kissing him right there beneath the staring eyes of two ships' crew.

"I knew it," Naruto gasped when he finally broke from the kiss long enough to breath. His hands ran reverently, possessively all over Sasuke's hair and face, marking and memorizing each cut and bruise. "I knew you weren't dead. I _knew_ it. I knew it." And now the tears did come. He pulled Sasuke to him for another devouring kiss.

Up on _Whirlwind_, Ei turned to his brother and grunted, "Unnat'ral."

* * *

><p>Sunset saw Neji leading the way into the township he'd spoken of. He and Itachi hadn't said two words to each other since the falls. It was him who found a flophouse on the one main road the town boasted, where the owner was willing to rent them a room. If he thought it odd that two men would be sharing the accommodation, he didn't say so. Neji paid him for two nights, ignoring the gimlet stare Itachi gave at having to rely on Neji's finances again.<p>

The place doubled as a butcher's, apparently. It reeked so bad that Itachi had to cover his nose and mouth with the hem of his coat. They were led out back, past hanging carcasses of beef and pork, to a rickety set of stairs that were completely dark.

-oOo-

Once in their room –a tiny, dingy affair- Neji turned toward Itachi and cleared his throat. "I'll wait for Hinata's reply, just to see where things stand. I can't imagine she'll tell me anything but that she finished all the men at the manor that night, and that Madara is either dead or her captive. Once I know for sure you're safe, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again."

"All you're capable of doing is leaving, it seems. Every time I look around, you've gone, yet you seem unnaturally concerned with my safety. I assure you, I'm quite capable of handling myself," Itachi said coldly. "Leave now, why wait?"

Neji shook his head in disbelief. "Instead of thanking me for being concerned with your safety -concern that saved your neck, if you'll recall- all you can do is hasten me out the door. You know?" he said, cocking his head, "that's a fine idea. Since I won't be touching you anymore, I might as well slake my lusts elsewhere. Ungrateful son of a bitch."

So saying, Neji turned and slammed out of the room.

Itachi, staring at the door, thought it just as well the man had left; had Neji stayed, he would probably have murdered him for that insult alone.

And what did he mean, slake his lusts _elsewhere_?


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Norry's ship had sailed away by the time Naruto released Sasuke long enough for them to swim back to Whirlwind. Gaara had already climbed up. Once Sasuke and Naruto were on board, Naruto hugged him properly, squeezing him tightly. Sasuke responded in kind, though he was very aware of the staring men. He pulled back slightly to get Naruto's attention.

"Gaara saved me," he said between kisses Naruto persisted in pressing to his eyes. The watching men drew closer to listen. "There was trouble, and it's a long story, but Gaara saved my life. He wouldn't rest until he'd gotten me back to you, was even willing to sacrifice himself. Naruto…he killed for me."

Naruto finally stopped kissing Sasuke's face. He looked to where Gaara was also being enthusiastically welcomed by his brother and sister. Gaara's eyes met his, but just then Sasuke got his attention again.

"My brother, Naruto." Sasuke voice was more serious than he'd ever heard it. "He's in grave danger…and you knew about it."

Riotous though his joy was at seeing Sasuke again, these feelings nevertheless took a sharp turn into fear at this statement. His first impulse was to lie, but Naruto shook his head. "I...I didn't have details," he stuttered quickly. "I swear to you. Neji only said _yakuza_ was trying to force your brother into something and that you were a bargaining chip. Told me to keep you safe-"

"You should have told me," Sasuke said evenly. The way Naruto had screamed for him and jumped ship was all the confirmation he needed to know that Naruto had thought him dead. This and the panic in he saw in those blue eyes now softened his anger somewhat, but he intended to be heard. "After what happened the last time you kept news of my brother secret, I'd have thought you'd know better than to keep _anything_ regarding him away from me. Just who in hell do you think you are to _decide_ what knowledge of my brother reaches me and what doesn't?"

Naruto's face was a study in wide-eyed contrition. There was wariness too, at what Sasuke might say or do next. "I-"

"You will get me to New York with all possible haste," Sasuke finished for him. "Only then will I be willing to listen to anything you have to say on the matter."

Naruto sagged, dropping his forehead to Sasuke's. Unspeakably relieved that Sasuke wasn't leaving him, Naruto swallowed and nodded at once. "Kakashi, turn us around."

To soften the harshness of his words and anger, Sasuke tilted his face and quickly kissed Naruto's sad mouth. "Thank you-"

"Now, wait a min't," Ei grouched. "I understand about yo' brotha, Sass-key-"

"Sasuke," Sasuke said.

Ei tried again to pronounce the name and gave up when he couldn't. "I understand, I do, but I's got bidness in Hawaii. Tha's in t'other direction. I been paid to bring back some girl, and I'ma see it done. This Mad'ra is responsible for me losin' my baby, so if taking this girl back hurts Mad'ra, well ain't no 'splosion gon' stop me. 'Sides, I was paid, like I said. I ain't no thievin' nigger."

Sasuke frowned. "Ino. Yes, my brother mentioned her abduction in his letter." And he'd specifically told Sasuke to stay away from New York, but Sasuke chose not to dwell on that. "Where does that leave us, then?"

"I think we should know a little more," Kakashi said. "You mentioned that there was trouble after the explosion at the offices. What trouble?"

By the time the entire tale came out, both Sasuke's and Gaara's, as well as Naruto's, Chouji had Gaara's ankle securely bandaged and Sasuke's wounds treated. Sasuke was dismayed in the extreme to learn that there'd been a simultaneous attack on _Lightning_, with Naruto on board. He turned to the head injury he'd only glanced at before and was all fawning apologies for the sharp way he'd spoken earlier, stroking Naruto's head as if it were still bleeding. He wasn't quiet until Naruto assured him several times that he was fine. Sasuke glued himself to Naruto's side.

Chouji was the one who stood and spoke into the ensuing silence. "This man Madara killed my mother," he said. "If Itachi needs his brother to help defeat him, then I say go for it. Let Sasuke go to him."

"We'd need two ships," Naruto said. "One to head to New York, one to get this hag, Ino."

"The captain who brought me here," Sasuke ventured. "He can't have gone too far, can he? Perhaps we can use his ship again?"

Looking out over the water, Naruto saw that the ships that had been near them were all gone. They bobbed alone in their stretch of ocean. Then he recalled that Norry had nearly killed Sasuke and almost raped Gaara, and his eyes went down to slits. At the same time, his lips curled up at the corners in a way that had nothing to do with amusement. "That," he said in a deceptively mild voice, "would be piracy." He looked around at his crew and Ei's, and found his sentiments mirrored on their faces.

"It's for a good cause," Lee said piously. His face did not look virtuous in the slightest.

"My brother's honor has been compromised," Kankurou threw in incongruously. "I'll need to speak with this Norry."

"And Norry gave the order to have Sasuke killed," Naruto purred. "That can't go unchallenged." His eyes nearly glowed in the moonlight.

"And I need to sail _sum'thin_ since my baby been burned," Ei added. "Least till I can get her rebuilt."

Sasuke looked around at them all, thoroughly alarmed at the violence he sensed coming from them. There wasn't one pair of eyes that didn't have murder in them. "But… I handled that situation," he said in a small voice. "I-"

Naruto went to him and drew him into a protective embrace that effectively choked off all speech. "Hush now, Sasuke. You've been through a terrible ordeal and shouldn't have to worry about anything else. Let us handle things from here on."

"But-"

Naruto turned away, though he kept an arm around Sasuke's shoulders, and began barking orders. His crew disappeared, along with Ei's, to carry them out. _Whirlwind_ banked sharply in the water, heading after Norry.

-oOo-

Gaara hobbled over to Sasuke. "Sir, I'm coming with you."

Sasuke responded at once, pulling out of Naruto's grasp. "No, Gaara-"

"But sir!"

"-You must stay here. You can barely stand, much less walk, and Chouji says you might have done your ankle permanent injury by using it in that condition. I can't have anything happen to you, not after everything you've done for me."

Gaara fought to keep his composure, but he didn't give up. "I'm supposed to keep you safe, sir. _Please_."

Sasuke cupped his face. "And what kind of master would I be if I didn't keep _you_ safe?"

"But…but…" Gaara's face cracked, yet he continued to hold the tears at bay. "I've never been away from you, not since you took me on. Except for when those bastards had you, I've always been by your side. No matter what. I can't leave you now."

Sasuke only smiled sadly, hating to hurt the boy this way. He was also hurting at the impending separation, especially after recently thinking Gaara gone, but he remembered clearly the lengths Gaara would go to in order to see his duty carried out. He'd never forgive himself in anything happened to him. "You must mind me," he said softly.

"At least let me stay on the ship when you go ashore in New York? I'd be with you for the voyage-"

_And would no doubt find a way to follow me once we landed. _ "I'm sorry. But you have to stay."

Gaara's head lowered to hide his tears, and Sasuke drew him in for a long, comforting hug. "I will have Ei bring you back to me as soon as he's done," Sasuke said. He looked over Gaara's head to Ei, who nodded in agreement. "I will leave you in his hands, and trust that you will keep yourself out of harm's way until we see each other again. All right?" He lifted Gaara's head to look into his watery eyes. The boy wasn't much shorter than he was.

"All right," Gaara said. His voice was hoarse.

Sasuke gave him a last past on the shoulder, before going to see about a change of clothes.

Naruto, who'd seen the entire exchanged, walked over to Gaara now. The boy looked up at him with eyes swimming in hurt. "Guess this makes _you_ happy," Gaara accused. "You never did like me."

"No, I didn't," Naruto nodded. "But what you did, I won't forget. You kept him safe, brought him back to me…I won't forget it." He said again. "Ever. And it's hard to dislike someone you admire and are indebted to." Holding the grave green gaze with his own unblinking stare, Naruto slowly extended his hand in a truce to their long-standing animosity.

Gaara looked at the hand for a long time. Then, cracking a small half-smile, he reached out and shook it.

Naruto suddenly dragged him in and clamped a beefy arm around his head in a hard hug. "Thank you," he said gruffly into the red hair. "_Thank_ _you_."

Gaara nodded against the meaty shoulder, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Just keep him safe, please."

"He won't leave my sight," Naruto swore. And this time, by God, he meant it. This Madara would pay in blood for what he'd done.

* * *

><p>Some three hours later, Norry watched in horror and outraged as <em>Skulker<em> was boarded by Naruto, two enormous Negroes, and a host of other dark men and women. His smaller vessel had been corralled into a tiny bay near Portobelo by the larger _Whirlwind_. His crew were all ushered into a tight knot, their hands raised in deference to the many weapons pointing at them. Naruto walked forward. At his side walked two white men, one of whom Norry recognized as the bastard who'd held him at gunpoint earlier.

"Norry," Naruto smiled pleasantly. "I believe you're acquainted with my…_friend_?" he tipped his head at the man Norry recognized.

Friend. So that was the way of it, Norry thought frantically. "I-I didn't know who he was, he never gave a name-"

"You never asked," Sasuke snapped.

"-and in any case, I brought him where he wanted to go." Norry licked his lips feverishly. He, along with most captains in Colón, knew of Naruto's reputation as someone not to be trifled with. "There's no call to be pirating my ship like this."

The other white man stepped forward and jerked his head at where _Whirlwind's_ hull was practically touching _Skulker's_. There, amidst the line of crewmen on Whirlwind's deck holding an assortment of guns aimed at Skulker's crew below, stood a familiar redhead. "That's my brother," the other white man said.

Shit.

Norry looked around at Naruto and his companions, calculating his odds. "Ship's yours," he said in a shaking voice.

Naruto nodded, his smile widening. "Knew you'd see things clearly. However, I won't be the one sailing this pile of driftwood. Ei here will, him and his brother. Your crew can swim to shore, but I thought you and I, and Kankurou here, should have a nice little chat in your cabin below."

-oOo-

While Naruto dragged a screaming and pleading Norry out of sight, and the _Skulker's_ crew dived overboard as directed, Bee had his men make an inventory of the hold. "She's got enough to outfit us and Whirlwind too," he announced happily when this was done. "More than enough to see us halfway to Hawaii, and Naruto to New York."

Ei grunted in approval. Naruto and Kankurou came back on deck, their hands bloody. "He dead?" Ei asked.

"No, but he'll wish he was when he wakes," Naruto answered. "Do what you like with him when he does."

The transference of supplies from one ship to another took another two hours. Gaara left _Whirlwind_ to board _Skulker_ and say his goodbyes to Sasuke and Naruto. Sasuke then left with Naruto to board _Whirlwind_ once the provisions had been divvied up accordingly. By then the night was nearly gone, but the two ships resolutely parted company, each intent on their separate missions.

* * *

><p>There were two narrow, lumpy beds in the room Neji had rented, each pushed to the wall opposite each other. A scarred and battered nightstand stood between the head of each bed. There was a rusty lantern on the nightstand, but it was unlit.<p>

Itachi had gone out looking for Neji shortly after the door had slammed behind him. The town, if it could be called that, hardly seemed large enough to hide anyone, but Neji was nowhere to be seen. Itachi had come back to the flophouse. Now he sat stiffly on the bed to the left of the room's door, hands clasped tightly together and pressed between his equally rigid knees. He did not move from this position during all the hours that Neji was gone, too livid to do anything but stare with hot eyes at the faint light of the moon on the far wall.

His mind flitted here and there like a restless hound on a variety of thoughts, but what seemed to echo over and over again were Neji's last words. Even now, as Itachi sat there, Neji was touching some other man…kissing him and… Itachi tried to use the word Neji so often did for the act and couldn't. Neji was bedding some other man, and had been at it for the past four hours, since he most certainly was not back yet.

Just then he could find no love for Neji in his heart. Neji was a blackguard, nine kinds of a scoundrel, but he most definitely was _not_ worthy of love, he told himself. Looking back on this morning, he thought he'd likely felt the emotion as a result of the night he'd spent in Neji's arms. This thought held sway for all of five minutes, before the truth crushed it for the flimsy lie it was. He was angry, plain and simple, and wanted the solace of feeling it without the hurt squeezing his insides mixed in.

He knew perfectly well that he had no right to be this angry. That didn't change the killing sense of betrayal he felt. It did, however, put a few things into perspective for him. These were the things his mind flitted at as the minutes and hours rolled by, but it didn't lessen his anger at all. Not one whit. And the longer Neji was gone, the tighter Itachi's anger wound itself, until when he did finally hear footsteps in the hall, he was literally vibrating with the effort to remain still. His jaw ached from clenching it for so long, but a dingy room in the smallest town he'd ever seen was not the place to lose control of his temper.

The door wasn't locked. The key for it dangled on Itachi's side when Neji turned the knob and entered a moment later. He watched as Neji shut the door softly and twisted the key home.

-oOo-

Neji let his head rest against the door a moment. He shouldn't have had that ale. It had only been one, taken outside the town and into the woods, where he'd nursed it for several hours. He didn't drink if he could help it. And right now, as much as he wanted the comfort of a drunken stupor, he needed to be at his most alert. All the ale had done was give him a headache.

He could sense Itachi across the room. The man was probably sleeping. Good. He couldn't take any bullshit right now.

"Was he that good?"

Neji nearly had a heart attack, whirling around at this snapped question. "What? Itachi, you scared the shi-"

"He must have been very good for you to need four and a half hours with him. You look exhausted, leaning your head against the door in that manner. _Was_ he good?"

Neji slowly came away from the door, blinking in confusion. "What? Who?"

"Whatever lice-ridden piece of arse you 'slaked your lust' on, that's who."

Close enough now to see the rage on Itachi's face as well as hear it, Neji stared. "I…what?"

"I left the room for a short time, you know. Checked this miserable town from one end to the other. There is no whorehouse here. Did the man invite you back to his own room, or did you use an alley? Or maybe the stables?"

Understanding was a few more seconds in coming, thanks to the ale. When it did arrive, Neji's tension receded a bit. Oh, this was rich. He nearly laughed but was truthfully too filled with his own sudden anger to manage it. "Now that you mention it," he drawled, "I did receive a bit of satisfaction in an alley tonight."

Itachi's face twisted into something ugly. "I hope he was worth the money, seeing as I'm currently dependent on those same funds for basic needs."

"Didn't spend a cent."

Itachi thought he would surely faint at the surge his wrath took. His head pounded with it. "I see. You were so skilled that the savage was happy to service you for free. No doubt that kind of skill takes years to acquire." He himself had enjoyed that same skill only last night, a fact that threatened to choke him where he sat. "How many whores _have_ you fucked?" The word came easily now.

Fascinated and disgusted by Itachi's behavior, Neji replied honestly. "I've lost count over the years."

"Where did you find him? Who was he? Name him."

A completely new thought lanced its way brightly through the red fog of anger in Neji's brain. His face went slack. "Wait…are you _jealous_?"

Finally losing control, Itachi surged up from the bed and shouted. "_Of course I'm jealous!_ How do you expect me to feel?"

Blinking in numb shock, Neji said, "I don't know. I didn't know you felt anything."

Itachi reigned himself in with difficulty and dropped back to the bed. He put his head in his hands. Neji edged over to his bed and sat across from him, watching him carefully.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Itachi muttered without raising his head. Neji leaned forward to hear better. "I don't know what the next day or week will bring. I don't know how I'll manage to repair the mess I've made, or if I'll even be alive a month from now to do so. I don't know if my brother is alive, or…or anything. I don't know anything." He lifted his head so that he could clasp his hands together once more, but didn't look up at Neji. He stared at the floor. "What I do know is that the thought of you with another man kills me. And that I don't want you to leave."

Neji, mouth dry from leaving it open, closed it now and swallowed with difficulty. "I don't _want_ to leave. And it's all right not to know what you're doing…at least we're communicating now."

Itachi shook his head. "I _always_ know what I'm doing. This…" he looked aside at the filthy window over the nightstand, then finally looked at Neji. "I don't know what I feel for you, if it's love or not-" this wasn't precisely true, but he hardly felt like confessing his feelings when he was so conflicted about everything else, "-but you're in my blood. I know that much. And that I can't stop thinking of you, or wanting you in my presence at all times."

"Well that's more than enough to work with," Neji said around a sudden blistering blush. "We can go from there."

Itachi stared at him for a long time. "I know my ways don't agree with you," he said at length. "But I don't know how to _be_ any other way. It's how I was raised, how my parents behaved, how everyone I've ever known treated me and _expected_ me to behave. I can't cast all that aside after a single night of…of…well, after a single night. Contrary to Sasuke, whom I'm sure you compare me to, I _like_ my life and my position in it. I was never discontent with anything but my father's methods. I never sought to rebel against society, or felt anything but peace and accord at my place in it. I won't abandon that, Neji. I want to be with you, but I won't give up my lifestyle to do so, or change who I am."

Neji nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. But neither will I behave as if I'm inferior when I'm not. I worked for you at first because I had nowhere else to go…but then because I wanted to be near you. It was a job, not who I was. You don't know who I really am."

"No, I don't," Itachi admitted sadly. "But I want to."

"Really?" Neji said. A small smile of pleasure lit his face.

"Yes. Really."

Neji got up and came to sit beside him. They each held their hands between their knees now, staring at the floor. "You've never tried to get to know me before," Neji said seriously. "You've always seen me as just some person who worked for you."

"Perhaps a bit more than that," Itachi said. "You had my confidences, after all, and I trusted you with my most intimate business details. And I-" _No. Not now, not yet. _"As I said before, I never saw you as my hound."

Neji caught the slip, but left it alone. "I see. Well, if you want to know me, perhaps the first thing you should know is that I value loyalty."

"As do I. Which made your betrayal tonight so painful. I must know who it was, Neji. Give me his name."

"There was no other man tonight."

Itachi looked over at him, and found Neji looking at him in turn. Something in his heart twisted, making it pound. "There wasn't?"

"No."

"You said-"

"I've used my hand often this past year. Do you think I could touch another man when I'm so in- when I have feelings for you?"

There was that word again. Itachi felt almost oppressed by it, and by his own feelings. Already they were interfering with his judgment. "But then where were you?"

"Off drinking. I'm not a very good drunkard, I'm afraid."

Itachi couldn't bear that grey gaze, how it crept inside him and squeezed the breath out of him. He tried to speak and couldn't. He ended up lowering his eyes to the scant inch of space separating them. "Oh. I see." It was an oddly pleasant feeling to know that he'd driven Neji to drink. Comforting. _And there'd been no other man._

"Were you really jealous?" Neji whispered after awhile.

Itachi made a noncommittal sound.

Neji translated this to mean yes. He moved closer to Itachi, captivated by the man's lowered lashes and his faint tremors. _I think you know exactly how you feel about me. _The knowledge, or suspicion of it anyway, made his blood heat sharply, driving away his headache. He felt positively bold, staring at those lowered lashes when he asked, "Why?"

Itachi managed to raise his eyes, but only made it as far as Neji's lips, which were only inches from his face. His throat and chest were tight with emotion; memories of being naked with Neji, of the things they'd done and how it had felt, assaulted him. The idea of anyone else receiving those touches, receiving what was _his_, was intolerable. He stared at Neji's mouth, trying to find words for the confusing stew of emotions he was unable to make sense of. "Your kisses are _mine_."

Neji had wondered if anything would be said at all. Itachi stared at his mouth for so long that his lips stung and burned with the clear longing in the black eyes. And then for him to say _that_, of all things… Neji's heart really stopped then. There was such possessiveness in the statement, such need, that he was already lunging toward the man when Itachi reached up and grabbed his face.

Itachi kissed Neji with all the wretchedness he felt, a feeling that was only dwarfed by the sheer hunger and desire that was mixed with it. He moaned aloud at the strong feel of Neji's hand behind his neck, of the arms around him, and the mouth on his. Those lips. Those firm, commanding, devouring lips. His, his, _his_! No one else's. They were his and he claimed them now with all the skill he'd learned the previous night.

-oOo-

This time when they came together, there was more fevered urgency and intent craving. Less time spent on idle touching. This time there was a mutual surrendering, an even give and take –and take they did- with both their minds in the same place. They both quaked with the need to feel the other's hands on them, to be reassured that each was well and truly wanted by the other. Clothes were soon gone, to leave skin pressed to skin, and each man groaning at the feel.

"Don't push me away again," Neji gasped as he covered Itachi's body with his own. "I can't take it. Push me away again and I'll stay gone, I swear to God…"

"I won't. On my life…_Neji_," Itachi breathed as Neji entered him hard and fast. The pleasure of that first, stinging thrust bordered on pain. He arched, mouth working soundlessly as he sucked in air. Neji drew back and rammed home again, and Itachi prepared to yell. Neji covered his mouth as gently as he could with one hand.

Thankfully, there was no headboard. The mattress was an old-fashioned thing, stuffed with wool and covered by ticking, so there was no squeaking to give them away. Even so, the harsh exhalations of air they each gave were brutally choked off.

Neji pumped furiously, baring his teeth at the skin Itachi scoured from his back, and the strength of the legs around his waist. Once or twice Itachi used those powerful thighs to push Neji back whenever a thrust was too deep, but Neji couldn't hold back, not this time. And after a while, Itachi didn't want him to. He held him tighter during the gloriously hot, blazing ecstasy of their movements, as if he never intended to let Neji go.

They loved desperately, breathing in shallow, opened-mouthed pants, and with Itachi's eyes glazed by fierce pleasure. Neji gazed into them, feeling his climax begin to roar out of him, unable to hold it back though he tried. He almost said it, right then when Itachi bucked in his own release, he almost said the words. Instead, he shoved himself in as far as he would go at the moment of his crisis. He poured the emotion into Itachi's body, willing it to fill him and find whatever barrier lurked in the man that prevented him from saying the words himself. Find it and melt it down, so that Itachi would finally be released from his hesitance the way he released his passions whenever Neji touched him. Until he had the words, he would keep his own feelings to himself.

This time, he stayed lodged in Itachi's body after the last shudder had passed. He held him in turn with no intention of giving him up as sleep found them both.

* * *

><p>Itachi felt a distinct sense of déjà vu when he opened his eyes the following morning. Light was streaming in through the window, as it had done in the mine yesterday morning wen he'd woken, and he'd spent the previous hours in a haze of mind-numbing sex, just as he had the night before he'd woken in the mine.<p>

The feeling was dispelled at finding no breakfast waiting for him, and at feeling his body surrounded by the arms and legs of another. Holding still, Itachi examined this development.

A bed was a private thing, shared by one occupant. Much like underwear, or the toilet. A man and wife shared a bed for the duration of intercourse, but otherwise they used the thing separately. To wake and find that he was sharing his bed with Neji left a very unnerving feeling of vulnerability and… Itachi cast about for some word that would fit. Intimacy. That was the word. Despite the physical things he and Neji had done, somehow simply sleeping together was more intimate. And the way his legs were tangled with Neji's warm ones, and how one of Neji's arms was beneath his head, and the other flung across his stomach…why, there was no privacy at all. None.

There was a noise. Itachi turned his head to find Neji staring at him with sleepy grey eyes. "G'morning," Neji said.

Itachi tried to smile. "Good morning."

Neji, who'd been studying Itachi for many minutes before he'd made his wakefulness known, held back a grin at the look of discomfort on his face. "Something wrong?"

Itachi remained still, but he indicated the problem with a thrust of his chin at Neji. "You're in my bed."

"Why, so I am." He continued to smile…until he remembered that highborn people didn't share their beds. He backed away immediately. "Sorry. I can go to my own bed-"

"No." Itachi regretted the loss of heat at once, but said nothing else. In retrospect, he'd rather liked Neji's body against his, without lust to necessitate it, but thought it would be too embarrassing to ask that Neji resume his former position.

"So…" Neji drawled when the silence stretched between them. He propped his head on a hand.

"Yes?"

"About last night."

Itachi went red.

"Not that," Neji chuckled. "_Before_ that. Did you mean what you said about wanting to be with me and get to know me?"

"I did."

"And how will that work?"

"I don't know. I do know that I don't like the idea of you treating me as your wife."

Neji digested that. "If you mean outside of bed, I suppose I won't really ask you to defer to me. But _in_ bed, I'm in charge. There's simply no way around that."

"So you've made abundantly clear. I will…concede to you in that area," Itachi said after giving it some thought. "And I will try not to order you around anymore."

Neji could see the effort of that statement. "Why, thank you, Itachi. That's most accommodating of you."

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?"

Neji laughed, forgetting himself enough to bury his face in Itachi's neck. "I will never get tired of your prissy ways, they're so entertaining."

"I'm not prissy," he sniffed, insulted.

"Yes, you are." Neji calmed down and propped his head on his hand again to see Itachi properly. "And I love it. When you're not making me contemplate murder, I love your outraged sensibilities. How you get downright fussy when something displeases you. It's hilarious. And your anger excites the hell out of me."

Itachi tilted his head to see Neji better, enthralled by this speech. "Does it _really_? Most people try to avoid my anger."

"I'm only sorry your rage had fled by the time I got around to fucking you last night. Ah, well there's always next time." Neji smacked his lips in anticipation.

Itachi shook his head in wonder. "You, ah…seem to have a large appetite for sex," he noted. He wasn't sure if the lip-smacking was for a future rage or more sex, but both prospects intrigued him.

"You think so?" Neji grinned wolfishly.

"More than anyone I know." He'd never known anyone who hungered for sex or to see someone angry. He had another thought. "Have you ever been with a woman?"

"Once. No, twice. One was a virgin. A watchmaker's daughter. The other was a widow."

"Oh. And?"

"I was pretty young. Wanted to make sure I wasn't missing out on anything, but there was nothing spectacular about either encounter. I don't like women," Neji wrinkled his nose. "Too soft and easily frightened. Not like men. Or you. You I can sink my teeth into without fear you'll scream the house down."

Itachi fingered the teeth marks he had on one arm. Neji had done many things that night in the mine that he'd been unable to explain. "And…my person incites you to such madness?"

Neji studied the wide eyes. Then he laughed. "What. No one's ever told you how beautiful you are?"

Fascinated _and_ enthralled now, Itachi mimicked Neji's position, propping his head up. "Why would anyone tell me such a thing?"

"Well, let me think…possibly because it's true?"

"That compliment is reserved for women. Men aren't beautiful."

"You're right, you aren't beautiful," Neji agreed, looking at Itachi's long lashes and chiseled features. "You're absolutely ravishing. Especially when you're upset. And when you're prissy. In fact, you're ravishing at all times of the day, no matter what you're doing."

_Had he no shame?_ Itachi thought around his own. "I- No, I'm not."

"I know men," Neji said seriously. "And I know ravishing when I see it."

Keenly interested despite his embarrassment, Itachi said, "So…you think other men like you would find me attractive?"

"Without a doubt. And what do you mean, like me? Don't you mean like us?"

"I am not interested in men." This led to another thought. "Do you suppose anyone_ I_ know is like you?"

Unsure of what to make of Itachi's continued assertion that he wasn't interested in men, Neji gave it some thought. "I can name at least three off the top of my head."

"Good heavens, _who_?" Itachi moved closer in his raging curiosity to know who amongst his acquaintances was a sodomite.

"That butler at the gentleman's club you frequent. What's his name, Vanders? The way he bends over backward each time you put a toe in the door, I just know he's longing to bend over another way for you in one of the back rooms."

Itachi brought up the man in question in his mind. Vanders was a somewhat short, thin, balding man of thirty-five, who always managed to serve Itachi impeccably and to the exclusion of many other patrons whenever he visited the club. "My God," he breathed. "And here I thought he was merely-"

"Treating you with the deference due your station?" Neji supplied.

"Well, yes. You really believe he lusts after me?"

"Not just him. The Wilkins' son on the neighboring property. I never met him, but I heard from their gardener that the boy was sent away to boarding school in Europe because of his perverted fixation on you. Parents found poems, I heard. In his room."

Itachi hadn't seen Jared Wilkins in two years…now he knew why. "I had no idea…"

"There have been others."

"Do you mean such men are common?"

"Common enough. If you know what to look for."

Itachi thought about that. "And you? Are you considered desirable to these men?"

"Why, Itachi. I'm hurt. Don't _you_ find me good looking at all?"

"Uncommonly so," he said without reservation. "Most handsome. But I want to know if other men do as well."

"Why?"

"Humor me." It wouldn't do for there to be competition for Neji's favors.

Neji shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose. They're most attracted to my hair, if they're like me. Or my height, if they're the receiving type. There was this one Spaniard, I remember…Christ, but he was obsessed with me. "

"Spaniard?" Itachi said smoothly.

Neji's didn't notice the cool tone. His eyes were far away, remembering. "Tall as Naruto. Blackest hair. Bluest eyes in Christendom. Widest pair of shoulders you ever saw, and a cock the size of a bull's. Took it into his mind that I was to be his and wouldn't hear otherwise. _Loved_ my hair."

"And did you bed him?"

"Only man I ever fucked who wasn't a whore. Besides you, of course. He was like me, not the receiving kind, but he wanted me so badly that he allowed me to lead. He showered me with gifts, offered to buy me a ship from his own fleet –he's a wealthy owner of a dozen merchant and cargo vessels, has offices down in Manhattan, and houses in Spain and here. Lord, that man loved me. _Obsessed_, I tell you."

"What happened?"

"Happened? Nothing. I got tired of his love poems, and his guitar playing, and his singing to me."

"You left him? Have you ever seen him since?"

"I stick to whores now, but I saw him just the other week. He's in and out of the port of New York often."

"What is his name?"

"Captain Chale Mendoza." Neji pronounced the first name as chah-lay. "His ship, the _Duquesa, _is said to be the fastest of his fleet, certainly faster than anything else coming or going on the Hudson. Chale still pleads with me to take him back whenever we cross paths. It's funny, really."

"You are never to see him again," Itachi said stiffly.

Neji finally looked up and saw the frigid disapproval on Itachi's face. "I thought you weren't going to order me around anymore?"

"Never, Neji. I won't allow it. No more whores, either."

"Jealous again?" He nuzzled Itachi's jaw.

Itachi was unapologetic. "Yes."

"Relax. You're all I want."

Itachi sniffed and turned his head away.

Neji gave him a minute, glowing at the lingering jealousy, then said, "So this arrangement we're in. Does that mean sex at night, no sex during the day?"

"More or less," came the sullen reply.

"Because it seems to me that a body could have a _little_ fun if it was day and say…they were alone with someone. Not in public."

Itachi's head turned toward him fractionally. "Go on…"

"I know you think I'm some sex-crazed beast, what with my appetites, but it _is_ going to be hard to wait till tonight to claim you again."

Itachi managed to lift his chin, even lying down as he was. "A capital amendment to the original agreement. I concur." Then, when Neji only continued to lie there, he looked at the far wall and added, "It seems I've been awake for over an hour now, without being claimed."

Neji moved closer. "How remiss of me," he murmured.

"Quite. I imagine you'll want to correct that oversight."

"At once."

Itachi turned to him, alert and a few moments their eyes held, as a sizzling awareness and anticipation settled in them.

He would not have believed it possible to have sex so often or want it so keenly, but when Neji rained soft, slow kisses on his body he made no protest. He wondered if he would do to Neji what he'd done in the mine. He didn't think he would, not unless that madness was upon him again… but the way Neji touched him, and how he felt laying in the sunlight and having the coverlet pulled away from his nudity, a different sort of madness overtook him. One whose grip was more dream-like. It smoldered, instead of burned, and made his heart pound fearfully whenever Neji's lips touched his skin.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until that evening that either of them finally left the room, driven by hunger pains. They found a tiny inn run by a husband and wife, and their two daughters. Itachi wanted to sit in the inn's one private dining room and have the very best the establishment had to offer…before recalling that his funds were nonexistent, and Neji's were far from plentiful.<p>

"I'm certainly no pauper," Neji snorted when Itachi rescinded his order of pot roast dinner. "We'll _take_ the pot roast dinner," he told the innkeeper. "And anything else you're serving tonight." The innkeeper said there'd be a wait. Neji aid that was fine. Itachi wanted to remain in the dining room, but Neji had other plans.

After they'd gone outside, Neji said, "I didn't want to leave you alone in there. I need to check the telegram office, and I don't want you out of my sight."

Itachi looked around the sleepy town skeptically. "There must be a hundred souls in this place, if that. You think Madara's spies are even here?"

"You never know," Neji lowered his voice to say. "But that's not what I meant. That innkeeper thinks you're quite attractive. I'd hate to come back and find you'd tossed me over for him."

Itachi craned his neck to see the receding inn. "You cannot be serious? He was married!" he said in shock.

Neji threw back his head and laughed loudly. Itachi understood that he _wasn't_ serious, and suppressed his own laugh.

Amazingly, he was happy. Happier than he could recall being in the past few weeks. His mind kept returning to the languid hours they'd just spent. The gentleness Neji had shown left a queer, unsettled feeling in his gut, as if they'd never really finished their love-making. Probably because there'd been no penetration this time, he thought. He'd climaxed, certainly, but…even now his body simmered with heat and all the attention Neji had spent touching him. Hours. He had to lower his head now at remembering the sheer amount of time his manhood had spent in Neji's mouth, all the many ways that tongue had been used on him-

His preoccupation left completely at spotting a horse tied up outside the telegram office. The stallion was large, black, with a flowing silver mane and tail. There was no other horse like it in all of New York; Itachi would know, since his father had bought it for him from somewhere in the Appalachian mountains on the day he'd inherited, his twenty-fifth birthday. "That's Tsukuyomi," he said. "That's my horse."

Neji looked where Itachi was pointing and frowned. He'd worked in the Uchiha stables often enough to know that animal and its distinctive coloring. He held Itachi back by a hand on his shoulder, eyes scanning the street and store fronts. They moved toward the telegram office cautiously.

-oOo-

At the office, they found a frantic young boy Itachi recognized hopping up and down and demanding from the proprietor of the establishment to know where Hyuuga Neji was.

"And I told you I don't know no Neji," the man said in exasperation to the boy.

"You have to know him!" the boy shrieked. "He sent a telegram from this office and told us to contact him here, and I rode my horse damn near to death getting here as fast as I could, and I'm not supposed to kill, but if you don't tell me where he is, I will, I swear to-"

Itachi had looked at his horse again at mention it being ridden hard, saw now that the animal was lathered from nose to rump in foamy sweat. His head swung back around at the threat to kill. "Mo?" he stepped forward and said cautiously.

Neji put an arm in front of him to stop him, eying the child warily, but Itachi pushed the arm down.

Mo turned around and nearly wept at seeing them. She marched right up to Neji, who suddenly had both hands free and ready to use. Clearly, he had no compunctions about hurting a child. "Who are you?" Neji bit out.

"Neji, stop. This is Mo. He came to the manor, and-" Itachi suddenly caught sight of a wisp of red hair beneath Mo's cap, and realized that this was the same girl who'd fought with him and saved is life. "I believe she's an ally."

"_She_?" Neji looked more closely, before his brow cleared slightly. _"Spider?"_ he asked her quietly.

Mo nodded. _"Hinata-sama sent me," _she said gratefully. _"She said her reply was too long to put in a telegram, and that her words for you're your eyes alone anyway. And she had stuff to send besides her message. Said if I didn't get here as quickly as-" _Here Mo took a deep breath and forcibly composed herself. She thrust out a package wrapped in leather and smelling foul. Neji took it.

* * *

><p>Back at the inn, Neji requested that the entire dinner he ordered be sent to the flophouse they were staying in. He paid extra for this service. There was more than enough gravy-soaked pot roast, new potatoes, corn swimming in butter, fresh milk, fresh rolls, baked chicken, and spinach pies to stuff both men and the famished Mo several times over. Not to mention an entire loaf of crusty onion bread, more creamy butter for that, and a jug of wine. The wine was vinegary, though, and quickly set aside after the first gagging mouthful. They requested more milk be sent over, and that it be flavored with cinnamon and honey.<p>

Only when they'd wiped all the dishes clean with the last of the bread, and Mo had sucked her fingers clean, did Neji take up the smelly package and move to sit by the nightstand, where the lantern was. Recognizing the smell for what it was, he said to Itachi, "You might want to turn away, seeing as you've just eaten. This won't be a sight for anyone who doesn't have a strong stomach."

Itachi moved to sit across from him on his bed. "Open it."

Neji undid the twine binding the parcel, and out poured several dozen severed fingers. They fell on Neji's legs, and rolled to the floor. Itachi covered his mouth. Neji only looked at the fingers a moment, before quietly telling Mo to lock the door. It wouldn't do for the innkeeper or one of his daughters to walk in just then to take their dishes.

There was more in the parcel. Eight rings bound together by another length of twine tinkled into Neji's palm, all silver, all with a kanji embedded in them. "Madara wore such a ring," Neji mused.

Itachi eyed the fingers. "There are no rings on those, and far more fingers than the rings you are holding."

"These wouldn't have been given to just anyone," Neji said. "I seem to recall Hinata mentioning that a select few men in Akatsuki were given a ring to signify their status in the organization."

"What do the kanji say?"

Neji handed the rings over so that Itachi could read them himself as he dipped his fingers into the parcel once more and came up with a letter wrapped and protected by one of Hinata's small silken scarves.

Itachi read the words on the eight rings. "_Gyoku, Nan, Shu, San, Bya, Hoku, Gai, Kuu." _He looked up. "Hinata killed all eight of the men who'd worn these?"

Mo came over, having drained the last of the milk. "She and her spiders killed all _those_ men," she corrected, pointing at the pile of fingers. "Forty-nine. Some of them were wearing those rings. I think you and I got a few too, though, remember?"

Itachi spluttered in shock at the women killing all the men who'd attacked the manor, but Neji was reading from the letter he'd unfolded out loud.

"_Dearest Cousin,_

_I am relived to know you and Itachi-san are well. Please inform Itachi-san that his house is secure, and we found two Chinese servants hiding in the cellar, who are even now putting it to rights. _

_Regrettably, Mikoto-san is dead."_

Itachi tightened his jaw at hearing that, but said nothing as Neji read on. The letter went on and on for a while about the repairs being made to his house, and how the weather was changing around the manor and the affect the thaw was having. Early buds were on the trees, Hinata rhapsodized.

"Why would she find it necessary to write about that?" Itachi asked.

Neji shrugged. "She's more into our roots than I am, but she's probably trying to comfort you over your mother and brother. Showing you how life follows death, and everything."

"I see. Please skip any further reference to the trees and grass."

Neji nodded and continued, skipping several paragraphs.

"_Inoichi-san was also captured by the enemy and taken to Madara, but I myself went to retrieve him, along with Shikaku and Shibi. He was in the process of being tortured, but at my arrival, Madara fled with one man. We did not give chase, as Inoichi-san's condition was critical. He is safe at Uchiha Manor now, and under my care. He will recover._

_I have troubling news. Inoichi-san says Madara extracted information from him. A location in Plattsburg. It is almost certain that Madara will go there. Please do not go there yourself until I can join you or send my spiders; Madara is without men now, save the one, but a cornered dog is at its most vicious and he was crazed when he saw how he'd been beaten. Aside from which, he has taken Hanabi and our father. I want my share of his flesh._

_I am sending this with Moegi, along with Itachi's horse and clothes for him. Tell him that Inoichi-san will see that his mother is buried accordingly and that her death was quick."_

Neji looked up gravely at that, remembering that he'd neglected to offer his condolences. "Itachi, I'm so sor-"

Itachi wasn't listening. "Plattsburg." He stood up and began to pace. "Mo, when did Hinata see Madara?"

"Umm…Wednesday night? Or…I think it was early Thursday morning."

"The night of the attack, then."

"Yes. She got Neji's telegram Friday morning, yesterday, and sent me right out. I'm sorry I rode your horse so hard."

Itachi waved the apology away. "Madara will want to get there by the fastest route if he believes, as Inoichi and I did, that the legacy is in this Plattsburgh. Railroad, most likely. He's probably already on one. Except," Itachi turned with a gleam in his eyes to regard Neji and Mo. "The legacy isn't in Plattsburgh. It's in Clinton. Inoichi might have forgotten, or else he might have tried to hold that detail back deliberately, but in any case it means we have a little time to get there ourselves before Madara does. Mo, are you sure Inoichi told Madara Plattsburgh only?"

"He said that's the only word he gave him. Nothing about any Clinton."

Neji held up both hands. "Wait, wait, _wait_. You know what the legacy is? For God's sake, what is it!"

"I don't know. I only know where it likely is," Itachi said. He explained about the letter he'd received the day Neji had left the manor, before the attack. "In truth, I'd forgotten all about it until now, but we must leave at once. I can't wait for your cousin. It will take Madara three or four days to reach Plattsburgh, and we must be there before him. Mo, where are the clothes Hinata sent?"

Mo picked up a large satchel she'd had over her shoulder and handed it to him. Neji was scribbling a reply on the back of Hinata's letter. He handed it to Mo and told her to take it back to Hinata quickly, and to take one of the horses he and Itachi had ridden into town on. Mo slipped from the room a moment later, the letter clutched in her fist.

Alone now, Neji spoke as he bent to sweep all the fingers into Hinata's scarf. "If Madara gets there before us, he'll be waiting for you."

Itachi began undressing, removing first the ring of keys that had managed to stay with him despite all that had happened. He started to respond, but the words died in his throat as he slowly brought the keys closer to his face. "Oh my God."

"What is it?" Neji came over to him at once.

"This." Itachi selected one key and held the entire ring up by it, turning it toward the light. "There was a mark on that letter from Plattsburgh, one I was sure I'd seen someplace…and here it is!"

Neji took the key and held it directly beneath the lantern light, studying it closely. He saw a small mark, like a stylized box of some kind, etched into the ruddy metal. "What does it mean?"

Itachi felt a surge of excitement. "It must mean that this key opens whatever strong box or safe houses the legacy. My God, my father told me not to let those keys out of my sight for any reason, and he himself always kept the keys on his person…I would never have known what that key was for if that letter hadn't come, do you realize that?"

"Then you still want to go through with this?"

"Neji, I must. If I can put this matter to rest once and for all, I must take the chance that Madara is there ahead of me. The man has ruined my life, killed my parents, and may have killed Sasuke. He's not getting his hands on that legacy, not as long as I have breath."

"We don't even know what it is," Neji said as Itachi began changing his clothes. He resisted the urge to help.

"No, but we'll find out soon enough. Here, there are clothes for you a well. Quickly, I want to be on a train as soon as possible."

Setting the scarf full of fingers aside, and trying to quell his sudden misgivings, Neji began undoing his shirt.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: All right. You people hounded me so bad for updates to this, it's not funny. I had no idea you guys were so into it, honestly. I had my reasons for setting it aside, valid reasons, and I'm happy to say my little vacation from it was beneficial. And now, since **Garmiet** has motivated me to get back in the saddle, here it is. Take Me resumes. \o/

A few notes:

1. It's so true that people fall in love, only to then discover things about a person they find distasteful. Love doesn't always develop after the getting-to-know-you process, more's the pity. However, what's happening here, as my astute readers will no doubt guess, is the singular fucked-up-ness of the men in our little pairing. I'll leave you to work that out. I shall be happy to converse with any who try.

2. Gaara isn't racist, just sheltered and a bit ignorant. Neither am I racist. I'm a hodgepodge of ethnic backgrounds myself, predominantly Hispanic and West Indian, so these thoughts and views are not my own. Solely Gaara's.

3. Uh...I forgot. No, wait. All the dates mentioned in this story, and the villages and such, are real for 1902.

Moving on... ^_^'

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14<span>

_Skulker_ made good time under Ei's expert handling. His long years at sea were evident in the smooth way his crew performed their duties, the way there was never any conflict on his decks, and in the level of respect and love his crew accorded him. Bee did most of the actual captaining, but Ei oversaw it all. He gave a command here, pointed out something there. Bee deferred to his brother in all things, even as Ei trusted him implicitly. _Skulker_ skimmed down the coast of South America without a hitch, her sails full and straining, and everyone in reasonably good spirits despite losing companions in the explosion.

Norry was another matter.

He was chained in the hold. One of Ei's crew patched him up, but he spent nearly all of every day bawling about how he would see justice done, and that he'd report each and every whore's son of them for piracy and assault. He didn't shut up about this until he was hoarse, and then the next day it would be the same thing all over again. Ei wanted to leave him at a port, and planned to do so before they rounded the Horn. Someplace far enough away that he wouldn't immediately be able to make trouble for them.

Gaara made it his business to carry down Norry's food once a day, and feed him a ladleful of water. All manner of insults and curses erupted from the beaten ex-captain whenever he saw Gaara, but the redhead endured these in silence.

-oOo-

The stop at their last port before the Horn came, but Gaara prevented Ei from ordering Norry's chains removed. "I'd like him to be my responsibility," he said quietly. "I've been feeding him, after all. And I don't want him left ashore."

Ei scratched at his goatee. "He takin' up food and water what could go to someone else."

"I know," Gaara nodded. "Please."

Ei studied those cool green eyes a moment more before turning away with a grunt. Wasn't really his business, despite the dog being on the ship he was captaining. And if he read those green eyes correctly, the ship would be his in truth before too much longer. That'd be nice. _Skulker _wasn't too shabby. Not a patch on _Lightning_, but not too shabby at all. "Fine. He yo' bidness."

Norry eyed Gaara suspiciously when he brought down his plate of dinner that evening. "Thought I was being left ashore?" He could hear the noise of the port well enough. The thought of being free was an enticing one.

Gaara said nothing, only stumped away on the crutch Chouji had given him.

* * *

><p>The weather at the Horn wasn't as bad as when Gaara had been washed overboard, but seeing it still put ice in his bowels. He remembered that day vividly. Sasuke had saved him. Swum to him and saved him. Ei had vastly more crew at his disposal than Naruto had had, though, and <em>Skulker<em> was well in hand, so he didn't think there was any real danger this time. Still…

"You a'right, son?" Ei stopped beside him at the look of pinched worry on Gaara's face.

"Fine. Was remembering the last time I was here. Got washed overboard."

Ei raised a brow, scanning the waves. "We good. Don' worry."

Gaara nodded, but disappeared below decks to remain out of the way. Just in case. His master wasn't here to save him a second time, after all, and he had something to attend to.

-oOo-

Norry was silent at seeing Gaara make his way down the ladder. There was no food in Gaara's hands, and a distinct air to the redhead that tightened the skin on his scalp. Something was different. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he smelled danger that had nothing to do with the stormy waves.

It wasn't until Gaara came closer that Norry was able to see him making eye contact. All the other times he'd been down here, Gaara merely fed him, emptied his bucket, and left. He didn't bother to make eye contact or speak. Seeing those eyes now, the way they gazed into his own, Norry knew a thread of fear. He remembered that this one carried knives. "I ever get free," he said in his hoarse voice. "And I'll fuck you with your own damn knives for this. You and that bastard you were with. I'll find him. Both of you. On my life, I will."

Gaara reached up and began undoing the chain around one of Norry's wrists. "I know," he said when the hand was free. He kept it in sight as he began undoing the other one. "Which is why I didn't want you put ashore. I can't have a threat like that at my master's back."

Norry understood a second too late to stop what was coming, but even if he'd been prepared, the result would have been the same.

-oOo-

The next day, Ei received a whispered report: Norry was no longer in the hold. His body was nowhere on board. Looking at where Gaara sat eating his breakfast, Ei gave a grunt and a nod. They were safely around the Horn now, the rough waves behind them. He was probably the only one to mark the body that had been tossed overboard in the dead of night, but then it _was_ his business to know what went on in his ship.

His ship. Had a nice ring to it.

He resumed eating his own breakfast, mind free of worry. _Think I'll name this new baby _Lariat.

* * *

><p>Gaara noticed that Ei took an interest in him shortly after they rounded the Horn. At first he thought he might be in trouble for Norry, but it turned out that Ei just liked talking to him. Ei would be sitting near the wheel, overseeing the main deck, and Gaara would sit beside him, gimp leg stretched before him, and just listen. He found Ei to be a fascinating font of details and facts he'd never heard before. And he liked the gruff man, he found. He liked him and his brother both, and found the crew to be much more entertaining than <em>Whirlwind's<em>.

He wondered if being a darkie was the reason. They certainly weren't the same as anyone else in his acquaintance, and it wasn't just the skin color. They were just funnier and thought differently. His active young mind drank in the differences, eager for knowledge after spending months in the stultifying depths of Panama's countryside. Naruto's boring home had nearly driven him mad some days. _Skulker _was exciting, and most of the excitement happened in the three feet of space he and Ei occupied.

Like now. Gaara was inches away from the stump of Ei's left arm. As always, the sight of it engrossed the hell out of him. He kept staring at it without trying to, and wondered feverishly what it would be like to touch it. There was a thin ridge of puckered flesh along the stump, as if there had been ragged pieces of skin there that had been crudely sewn together. That little ridge of skin made Gaara's fingers itch, he wanted to touch it so badly. He was _fascinated_. Finally, he could stand his curiosity no more.

"How'd you lose your arm?" he asked one morning. He tried to make his voice casual.

Ei held in his snort of laughter. 'Bout time the boy got that question out. Anymore staring and his stump would have gone up in flames. "Dog."

"A _dog_ bit your _arm_ off?"

"Chewed off most of it. Owner had to chop off the res' wi' his wood ax."

"The dog's owner?"

Ei looked out over _Skulker's_ deck, face impassive. "My owner."

Gaara waited for more, staring up at Ei's stony face. He didn't understand the emotion on it, the expression of shame and stubborn defiance, but he sensed he'd touched on a sore topic. If his sister were here, she'd be bashing his head in for being rude. But she wasn't here, and he didn't hold his tongue. "Your owner? Like…" Gaara remembered what little information his father had told him of darkies. People used to buy and sell them like horses, his father had said. And treated them like animals to boot. "You mean like slavery?"

No answer. If anything, Ei's face tightened further. Gaara looked down at his lap in uncertainty. He'd like to hear about slavery, but he didn't want Ei mad at him. He frowned in misery, knowing his master, Sasuke, would have been able to come up with the right thing to say to smooth things over.

"My brother din' know no better," Ei's voice rumbled out nearly an hour later.

Gaara had fallen into a moody silence, wracking his brains for some way to apologize when he didn't know what he was apologizing for, and wasn't sure if the apology would make things worse. The wind had died down and the sails hung limp. The main deck, and those on it, baked in the shimmering heat waves. Ei's voice grating out like that broke the silence and startled Gaara back from the edges of a near sleep. "Huh?" he said stupidly. He blinked through the glare of the sun at Ei's dark face.

"'Bout your age. Thirteen, fo'teen, somewhere round there. Big. Bigger than you, near two times as wide. You-" Ei flicked his eyes sideways and down, sweeping Gaara's lean body with his eyes. "You's a puny worm next to how my brother was at yo' age. Me, they was breeding fo' years. Was used to it. Stuck me with the biggest black women on the place, or else hired me out to other farms to stud they nigger women fo' 'em. Breeding big bucks like me. Strong. But Bee…was his firs' time put to stud. Dat girl…baby grew in her right quick, same as it did whenever I was put to her. Bee…well, he didn' know better."

Gaara sat listening, trying to puzzle out what was being said and understanding none of it. "What happened?" he ventured timidly.

"A boy happened," Ei said. "Big brown baby boy, and Bee loved him. His son, he called it. His boy. Kittering –dat was our owner- Massa Kittering took dat boy and sold it. Illegal, but a lot of the Souf was still doing slavery when it was illegal. Bee los' his mind. Hit Kittering. Took me and a mess of the same men you see on dis here ship to hold him down, but he got away. Went after dat wagon, the one belonging to Oakes down de road, what bought dat baby boy. Choked the life out the nigger drivin' it. Near tore Massa Oakes's overseer's head clean off. Massa Oakes was in the wagon, holdin dat baby. Bee said to him, 'You don' gimme dat babe I'll beat you bloody with your own leg.' I heard him. There he was screaming red murder, an' there I was bawling jus' as bad. Knew they'd hang Bee fo' what he done. Kittering come up and set the dogs on Bee, but I got atween 'em. Cost me my arm. Bee was locked in a hole Massa Kittering had in the ground til he could 'deal wit' him'. Patched my arm. But I knew Bee was as good as dead. That same night, me an' all the res' put the Massa and his Hell-spawn brothers and sisters to justice. Red justice, yes. Shoulda done it sooner. After, we left. Ain't looked back since."

Gaara's mouth was open. Ei looked ten years older by the end of this telling. "A-and the baby boy?" he whispered when he'd moistened his lips with his tongue. "Did you and Bee get him back?"

"No," Ei grunted.

Gaara lowered his eyes a moment, then glanced back up. "And you? You…have children out there too that you've never seen?"

"'Spec' so. Done sired a good half hunner' babes on one dam or another, on Kittering niggers alone. Bucks like me don't grow like cotton. I was hired out to more owners'n I can count or 'member. Kittering woulda done the same wit' Bee."

"That's…_awful_," Gaara whispered. He could not imagine siring children and never knowing them. His father had been poor, but he'd loved his children and seen to their well-being as best he could.

"_Slavery_ was awful."

Gaara stared at where he could see Bee, all the way across the decks. "Your brother doesn't talk like you. Like a-" No, maybe that was too rude. Gaara was finding his manners a bit late. Sasuke would have scolded him long before now for only a tenth of the things he'd said.

"Like a slave?" Ei asked.

Gaara nodded, red-cheeked.

"We came north, all o' us. Scraped and saved doing odd jobs. Bought us a lil' boat. Worked. I put Bee through school. Worked some mo'. Saved some mo'. Bee's eddycation brought us more work. It took a long time before we was successful." He met Gaara's eyes. "You's been to school."

"No," Gaara blinked in surprise. "I haven't. My sister went for a little while. My brother, too. But then my mother died when she had me, and they had to stay home to help my dad work. _He_ taught me to read and write."

"Yo' father was eddycated, then. An eddycated man taught you. Same as being eddycated anyplace else. You's lucky, is what you is. Eddycation is the mos' powerful thing in the world."

Gaara listened to this with his head cocked. "My father always said money was power."

"An' a starving man will tell you bread is power. Power seems to be whatever a man _don'_ have, but whether you have or you don', the ones wit' the _real_ power are the ones who be eddycated. Or do you see dumb white men runnin' things?"

"No, I guess not," Gaara said slowly. It was a novel concept. "I guess I never really thought about it." But Sasuke _had_ taken him on due to his speech and his ability to read and write, he remembered. He had more money saved up now, because of that job, than his father had likely seen in all his life.

Another of Ei's massive snorts gusted out of him. "People who _got_ don' never think about _what_ they got or how valu'ble it is. Like this girl we gon' to get. Rich. Eddycated. Bet you a turkey dinner she a spoilt bitch won' thank us for rescuin' her."

Gaara had nothing to say to that. He didn't think much about the woman they were going to rescue, but he did wonder if Ei saw _him_ as some spoiled brat because of the things he'd had growing up.

* * *

><p>Neji eyed the farmhouse set back from the road. By the light of the setting sun, he could see a spavined horse tethered to a piece of fence sticking into the ground, and the remains of a summer garden gone to weed and frost. The house itself looked to have two rooms at most, but it was the only thing for five miles at least in either direction. He clucked his horse toward it, hearing Itachi follow.<p>

That was a relief and an improvement, that the man was following docilely. Since being on the road, every place they'd come to had resulted in them being chased off or coldly told to leave.

Itachi, it seemed, had intended to take charge of matters now that he had a goal and a purpose within his sights. He'd swept from their room at the flophouse with Neji in tow, taken his horse, and discerned that they would need to travel a few towns over to find the nearest railroad station. In every town between them and the train, he had attempted to secure lodgings for him and 'his man' though he hadn't a cent to his name. All inns and motels had been full, or else there had been none in the tiny villages they passed. And much of the way was through wooded land, with only the odd little house here and there.

Someone offered to give Itachi a room for the shoes on his feet, to which Itachi had given a crushing set down. "Is there some reason you've stopped letting me negotiate lodgings?" Neji had asked curiously. He'd been close to expiring from the effort not to laugh at Itachi's umbrage over the shoes, but he'd made his face and voice gravely concerned as the fifth door slammed in their faces. "Seeing as _I _have the money, and I don't offend people the way you do."

Itachi had whirled on him, apparently eager for battle. "And just _why_ is it you're holding all the money, may I ask?"

"Because it's mine," Neji said slowly.

"Money _I _paid you," Itachi pointed out.

"And that means you have a right to take it back?"

Itachi had drawn himself to his full height, and Neji had braced himself to hear something hilarious; Itachi was always funniest when angry…and sexy. "I cannot help but feel that as the-" he hesitated a moment, and Neji applauded his belated tact. "-As the one with the pressing need to go north, that I should be allowed access to your funds for the nonce. You will be paid back with interest once I'm restored to my wealth."

"What wealth?" Neji asked mildly. The strain of keeping his face straight was surely costing him a few years of his life.

Itachi went red. "Now see here, Neji. That was a low blow, that comment. Madara may have cut me off from my inheritance, but it is there, and I mean to have it back. Getting to Clinton, finding the legacy, and ransoming it against all that Madara took from me is of paramount importance, and lending me a few dollars _you would not have had were it not for me_, is the quickest way for us to get to Clinton." He lifted his chin proudly after this, as if daring Neji to refute this logic.

They were in the middle of some nameless town's one road, with Tsukuyomi snorting over Itachi's shoulder, and Neji's horse stamping behind him. He'd taken a moment to think. It hadn't escaped his notice that having the legacy practically within sight was altering Itachi's behavior. He was short-tempered, and without his usual gentlemanly indifference. If anything, Itachi was nearly foaming at the mouth in his need to get to Clinton, so yes. Neji did understand, to a certain point.

However.

"You're not good with money," he said. Itachi had swelled in fury, but Neji went on to explain. "You've always _had_ money, so you don't know how to use it. You don't know the cost of things, so anybody would be able to rob you blind and you wouldn't even know it."

Itachi gasped. "You think I'd _let_ some cutpurse-"

"How much does a loaf of bread cost?"

"How would I know such a thing?" Then, suddenly seeing Neji's point, he said, "A dollar?"

"You'd have us eating our horses inside a week. I could have two dozen loaves for that amount and less."

And so they'd resumed their journey.

-oOo-

Thereafter Itachi had been silent about the money, conceding that he'd never actually paid for anything in his life. His bankers handled that, or his butler…or Neji. But that didn't mean he would simply tag along in Neji's wake as he had before their night in the mine.

To that end, he struggled to comported himself as he usually did. And Neji, he noted…Neji behaved in a completely different manner, one Itachi wasn't sure he liked.

For instance, Neji used to open doors for him before, as his servant or assistant, but now he didn't. He did not ride behind Itachi or beside him, but insisted on taking the lead. He made a point to say Itachi's name often, and while this had excited Itachi at night, when they were touching, in the light of day it smacked of insolence; he was not used to hearing his given name from anyone who wasn't a family member.

He did not order Neji about, as promised. But he made sure to assert his authority in other ways. Such as trying to secure them lodgings and food. He supposed he saw the folly of this when he wasn't the one holding the money, but Neji said it was his manner that turned people away from them, and he found that notion both offensive and preposterous. "This isn't the city, and these aren't the lords and ladies you normally rub shoulders with. You can't pound on their door and demand bed space and food," Neji told him one night.

"They should be glad of the privilege!" he'd countered in honest bewilderment. "Serving a lord brings rewards. Everyone knows that."

"Here's the thing. People begging for food don't normally have anything to reward others with. And you don't look like a lord right now. Therefore you should behave in a manner fitting your appearance. You'll offend less people and we wouldn't go hungry so much."

"You expect me to _beg_?"

"We can pay, so we're not beggars, but we are supplicants. Even if we have money, these people have the _right_ to refuse us houseroom. It's their house."

Itachi had stared at him as if he'd gone mad. "Refuse us? When we have _money_?" To his mind, poor people would do anything for a coin. How could they refuse? Would wonders never cease?

"Yes," Neji sighed. "Money doesn't always mean much out here. Food and labor mean more to some people." And he'd shown how this was true by getting a single mother to feed them and let them sleep in her barn for the price of Neji turning the earth in her back lot. Her husband had died during the blizzard and left her with a babe at her breast.

So now, three days on the road, Itachi left lodgings and speaking to these common folk to Neji. He watched as Neji rode up to the first farmhouse they'd seen in twenty-four hours and knocked. Neji had his hat in his hands before the door was pulled open. A jovial man peered out, candle held aloft.

-oOo-

The couple was nice enough, Itachi supposed. He listened to the way Neji, speaking in a low and courteous tone he'd never used with Itachi, offered _both_ their backs for work in exchange for food and lodgings. This time he remembered to hold his tongue; Neji had said it was necessary to save their money whenever they could, since they didn't know what the way north would hold or require of them. The farmer said as how he'd be happy to feed and lodge two weary travelers for a single night. Him and the missus had plenty, he said. Neji actually bowed in thanks, pressing the farmer's hand between both of his, and _still_ offering to do repairs around the place in exchange.

Itachi longed to hit him. He didn't have the first clue about repairing anything. He was fascinated at how this humble, soft-spoken man could be the same person who was so fierce when they were naked.

They were fed a hearty bean soup with fresh baked bread and crisp apple cider, then given what Neji called 'choice' sleeping arrangements: a spot on the floor of the main room in front of the fireplace, and two musty quilts. To be fair, there _were_ only two rooms to the place. The couple took to their bedroom with a cheerful goodnight, and gently shut their door.

Itachi turned to Neji at once. "Why do you insist on hiring us out for work if we are given what we want for free?"

Neji answered in the same hissing tone. "It's polite."

"_Damn_ your polite," Itachi bit out. "And damn _you_."

-oOo-

Neji watched as Itachi angrily rolled himself in the quilt.

Sometimes he wondered. And worried. Clinton called to Itachi, which explained the surly attitude, but he was also coming to discover that Itachi did not accept adversity or physical hardship the way Sasuke had. Little things pissed him off. He'd noticed the tight expression on Itachi's face whenever he failed to open a door or pull out a chair for him, and the man positively fumed whenever he addressed him by name. Not only that, but Itachi seemed incapable of pretending, even for a moment, even if it was what was best for them, that he was anything less than a privileged blue blood. And that whole business with the money…in hindsight it wasn't funny at all. And whenever he paid for something, he could feel Itachi's stare, could almost hear him keeping a tally in his mind of every cent spent.

This was not the man he'd fallen in love with.

It seemed that now that he wasn't bowing and scraping for the man, Itachi didn't like him too much. Unless they were fucking. Itachi liked him just fine then. Liked hearing his name then, too. _And here I am trying to be on my best behavior. Wonder what he'd do if I just dropped all the pretenses? _Probably shit bricks.

* * *

><p>She could hear the quick, light footsteps of their night guard come to check on them, same as he did each night. Three checks during the day. The morning check brought food and water. The midday check was just a peek. The nighttime check was also a peek, and then the door in the floor would remain shut until morning. Sometimes their pail of waste was emptied on one of the morning or midday checks, or else a corpse was carried away then, if they thought of it. But night was only a peek, and then that was it. Ino had listened carefully for weeks to discern that there was only ever one man guarding the cellar door at night; one was all that was needed for a locked door that barred a sickly group of half-dead women. There were no more young girls to entertain the men, so the majority of them sought their pleasure elsewhere.<p>

"He's coming," Ino hissed. "Be ready."

Though the women in the underground cell with her made no sound of resistance, Ino nonetheless detected a spike in their panic. She glanced over her shoulder at them. Her mother stood pale and weak, but resolute. The rest showed varying degrees of fear on their faces.

It had taken her many days to convince them that their only chance for survival lay in escape. The problem was that most of them didn't _want_ to survive. Losing their children and other family members the way they had, being subjected to endless brutality and starvation- the women were completely cowed. They wanted only to be left alone. To die without threat of further hurt or harm. Then, too, there had been an added resentment toward Ino for being the only one among them who hadn't lost anyone to the guards. Not to mention the fact that she had never been violated. That resentment had taken awhile to fade, and it wasn't completely gone.

The only argument she'd been able to use to win them over was the promise of vengeance. Only that. It was the only thing the women wanted more than death, and even then their hunger for it wavered every day. She had to coax, and cajole, and nurse them to the idea constantly, so terrified were they of acting on their secret desires for retribution. Ino didn't give up. And eventually they came to see things as she did. To understand that their menfolk would not be coming to save them. That they would have to save themselves if there was to be even a hope of justice. She dared not wait any longer, lest what little courage they held between them sputter and fade completely; tonight was the night.

-oOo-

Their guard paused at the trapdoor, coughing wetly. Ino heard the sound of phlegm clearing his throat and thought her nerves would be shredded at this delay. But then she heard the metallic rasp of the key entering the padlock, heard it snap open, and then the trapdoor was being pulled up.

Ino took the pail of waste she'd been holding in a trembling fist and swung it at the guard's unsuspecting face with all the strength in her arm. One of the women behind her cried out in a thin voice, perhaps in triumph. Ino certainly felt a savage burst of joy at hearing the man's nose crunch. His yell of shock was choked off by the soupy contents of the pail filling his mouth, whereupon he vomited at once. Knowing that timing was everything now, Ino mastered her own fear enough to clamber up the ladder, pail still in hand, and bludgeon the gagging man with it.

He fought her. Even doubled over and retching the way he was, he turned on Ino like a fiend. He produced a long, curved knife and slashed at the hand holding the pail. Ino hastily dropped it and skipped back out of reach. She had no other weapon. What little strength she had was now failing with the absence of her pail.

Still, when he came at her again, howling in Japanese, she dodged. Adrenaline gave her the courage to grab at his knife hand, but he grabbed her in turn and twisted her around. The knife's sharp blade bit into her throat. She could feel the strength in the arm behind that blade, the way it gathered in preparation to drawing the edge across her skin. Ino pushed against that unyielding arm with all the force she could muster, but to no avail. She could hear her own piteous cries, feel the tears rolling down her cheeks…just as she could feel the way the flesh on her neck parted beneath the pressure of that blade. The guard's breath was foulness itself where it washed over her face. Ino sagged in defeat, and closed her eyes. _Let it be quick._

A ragged cry sounded from the man, and the blade was quickly removed. She was shoved forward, to fall heavily on her hands and knees. When she looked up through the tangle of her hair, it was to see the women boiling out of the trapdoor. They were led by her mother, who had a jagged piece of masonry she'd dug loose of the cellar wall held aloft in one claw-like hand. The guard turned in time to have this crude weapon viciously smashed into his face. _There goes the rest of his nose, _Ino thought inanely.

Ino could not have said if this blow alone would have been enough to finish him; the other women fell on him with fists and feet, bearing him to the ground beside her. They were utterly silent throughout the entire thing. The only sound was from her mother. Her mother's weak arm, now strong with rage, rose and fell again and again. The stone made sickening crunching sounds against the guard's head. Ino had to turn her face away when she saw one of the man's eyes torn free of its socket by someone.

After –she had no memory of how long- she felt those same hands on her body. She flinched, but the touches were gentle. Concerned. Ino lay shivering beneath those hands, weakly pushing them away, until the sound of her mother's voice brought her lids fluttering open. "Daughter." Her mother's face was more alive than she'd ever seen it. And splattered with blood. "Come. We must leave."

Leave. Yes. It was _her_ plan. Gradually, the horror faded as this thought asserted itself once more. They had to leave.

When she got shakily to her feet it was to find her mother and the women waiting for her. Solemn, bloody, and with gory hands, they stood calmly and looked at her. They were radiant, Ino saw. Invigorated by the kill, by taking a stand at last. And she saw something else in their eyes. As her shakes subsided, and her courage slowly returned, Ino saw gratitude. Fate had made them prey and victims; Ino had shown them how to take charge of their fate. They were victims no more, those grave eyes said.

Ino squared her shoulders, feeling the responsibility of leadership as a physical weight. She would not fail these women or herself. A thirst for life replaced the certainty of death she'd had only a short time before, and she wiped her neck of blood. Forced herself to look at the mutilated body of the guard. "We have only hours," she said in a low voice. "The other guards will be here in the morning. Best we put as much distance between ourselves and this place as possible before then."

"Where will we go, Daughter?" Her mother's voice, though low, held a wealth of trust.

"I'm not sure," Ino hedged. Something caught her eye on the floor, where it lay in a stray patch of moonlight.

She bent and took up the curved knife. It felt right in her hand. Like she was taking the first step towards putting her own life back together. When she held the blade up to the moonlight, the blood on it, her blood, appeared black. Her eyes moved to her hand. She used to take pride in her hands, in keeping them white and soft and smooth. Now her hand was caked with feces, the nails broken, the skin rough. She'd never held anything more dangerous than a butter knife, or a dainty fan, yet now she gripped the blade securely.

Experimentally, she twisted the blade, looking at the dull reflection of her eyes. They were no longer bright, but sharp and wary. Distrustful. She used to have beautiful eyes, or so men told her. She'd believed them. _I'm not that girl anymore. _

The knife lowered as she looked around, taking stock. She had a rough idea of which way the water was, working off the things she'd seen and heard when she'd been brought here. " We must get to a ship," she said. "This way."

Moving swiftly and silently, Yamanaka Ino, former socialite and flighty child/woman, led her small army of battered survivors into the wild territory surrounding Chinatown.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Neji ate well of the apple and cinnamon oat porridge the woman served, thanked the couple, and was on the road as the sun was coming up. He did not speak to Itachi.<p>

Itachi let the silence continue for most of the day, staring at the back of that brown head for long periods of time, and trying to puzzle out the riddle of Hyuuga Neji.

He had expressly said that he would not change himself to suit Neji's belief that they were equal, or to be with him, but he couldn't fail to see how much being himself offended Neji. If he tried to take charge, he somehow blundered, and if he pointed out grievances he had with Neji, the man went silent. Neji did speak, when spoken to, but it seemed that in trying to be with each other, and get to know each other, they only grew farther apart. Itachi didn't _like_ anyone else handling his affairs, and said as much the previous day.

"How is it you got on your whole life with bankers and lawyers and God alone knows who else running your affairs for you, then?" Neji had asked.

Itachi had needed a minute to come up with an answer. It was not something he'd ever had to consider. "I was still in charge of them. They answered to me."

"Ah."

That one syllable had smacked of superiority. "The more I come to know you, the less I like," Itachi had said then.

"I think I'm coming to the same conclusion."

That had been yesterday, before the farmhouse. Today it seemed they would carry on in silence. Itachi wished they were back in the flophouse. That morning after they'd loved so fiercely had been the only time in Itachi's memory when they'd been intimate and at peace with each other. They'd laughed. And then Neji had spent hours touching him, only that. Learning, and kissing, and rubbing every part of his body in the sunlight. They hadn't touched since.

It was an odd thing, but now that he'd been with Neji, he found himself wanting it. At arbitrary times during the day he would look at Neji and remember the taste of his mouth. The smell of his hair, the texture of it. The strength in his hands. Sometimes he would catch Neji looking at him with hooded grey eyes and know the thoughts behind them; they mirrored his own. A tightness would settle in his chest, but like as not they were out in public or on the road, and even if they weren't, things just weren't amorous between them right now.

Which brought him to another point. _Don't I love him? Isn't that what I'd concluded? _Yes it was. But just now, and for the past day or two, he couldn't quite call up the emotion within himself. He seemed to only find discontent and a need to have the order he used to have in his life, which was to say with Neji deferring to him and _not_ in control of things. He couldn't help it. That's how things were _supposed_ to be.

_But then what does that say of me? That I only love him when he's…fucking me? That isn't love. That's lust. And if I don't want him to leave, and must have him in my presence, yet cannot not abide him being his own person, that is little better than saying I own him. Or that I want to own him. But…he _is_ mine. Dammit, he is. _

Itachi glowered at the back of Neji's head for several more seconds.

_He'd be angry if he heard that thought, I suppose. I said I would yield to him in bed, which I have. Why then can he not yield to me out of it? Why can't things be as they were in the manor? Because it was an act on his part, as he said? Rubbish. No one can play a part so well for so long. And while we are on the subject, if he was only able to play that part for as long as he did due to his feelings for me, why are these same feelings strangely absent now? Why has he not contrived to find us shelter alone, where we might be intimate again? _

That seemed like a good question. Passion such as Neji professed to harbor for him could not be turned on and off like a spigot. The man confused him. Either he was all over Itachi, calling him ravishing, and fearing to leave him alone with innkeepers, or he was seemingly unmoved by Itachi's charms and content to ignore him for hours on end without so much as a stolen kiss. To Itachi's mind, they were heavily into courtship. Were he to treat a woman as coolly as Neji treated him sometimes, even without their arguments, the woman would have every right to think she'd been jilted. Especially if kisses had been exchanged.

_But we are not women. This is not courtship or anything that will lead toward marriage, or some other kind of binding relationship. We are men. Perhaps this is how men get on, with no claims or…or anything concrete. _That was a disturbing thought. The idea of not having a claim on Neji made Itachi's rage simmer inside him…and he realized this was the crux of the matter, the whole thing in a nutshell. He did not like Neji's independent nature or the inconsistent quality to their relationship. It meant Neji could leave whenever he wished, and nothing, _nothing_, Itachi said would make him stay.

_But he said he doesn't want to leave me, _Itachi thought bracingly. _And he was willing to be a servant for an entire year just to be near me. _That brought Itachi up short. _Why was he so devoted to me _then_, yet now that I return his feelings, whatever they are, he pulls away? _It came to him all at once, like rounding a corner and finding something unpleasant. _He grows tired of me._ _The way he grew tired of Captain Mendoza and left him, a man who loved him. Who begged him to stay. I see how it is now. Men are men no matter who they bed. They stay as long as their interest is piqued, which is to say during the chase, but once the plum is picked, their interest strays elsewhere. And Neji, that cad, he is content so long as his feelings aren't returned. The moment things get serious, he runs for the hills. Coward. Bleeding, twice-damned coward!_

_I am a fool, _Itachi thought. He didn't know why he'd persisted in thinking as though he were dealing with a woman. With a woman, what he was doing now would lead to some kind of commitment. What possible commitment could he hope to have with Neji? With any man? Society would lynch him, and he would deserve it. Perhaps Neji had the right of it: to love and indulge while you could, and move on when the fires of passion cooled. What else was there for two men?

_There's your brother. And Naruto._

But they were on a ship. And when not at sea, they were on Naruto's modest estate in Panama, a place Sasuke wrote was secluded. He, on the other hand, lived in the city, with a nosy circle of friends who were far from stupid.

Staring at that long brown hair, and Neji's straight back, Itachi felt a deep ache settle into his bones. _I'll not beg him like Mendoza did, _he swore silently. And that, too, made his rage twist inside him.

* * *

><p>I beg your pardon?" Itachi said in disbelief.<p>

"Trains ain't running," the stationmaster repeated. "Snow three and four foot high all along the railway from Poughkeepsie to Greenbush." Poughkeepsie was the next town over, the next place they'd be able to catch a train. They were currently in the village of Fishkill.

The weather _had_ worsened the farther north they traveled. Whatever warm weather he and Neji had experienced after the mine had been a false spring. Just now he was hunched inside a smelly great coat a stout farmwife had given him some days ago. "When do you foresee service resuming?" he asked.

"Whenever this snow stops," the man said shortly. He dismissed Itachi and Neji, who was standing behind him, by returning his eyes to the ledger in front of him.

Itachi opened his mouth to say something about this rudeness, but Neji quickly moved in front of him. He asked the man where they might find lodgings, to which they were directed to a modest hotel.

-oOo-

Snow fell around them in thick silent flakes as they left their horses in the hotel's stables. Neji paid for three nights in one of the hotel's better rooms. A feeling of furtive anticipation settled in Itachi's chest as they carried their parcels into the room. They hadn't touched in over a week now, and had spoken very little. Perhaps now they would get to do both.

But then he remembered that Neji's affections were waning, and the feeling in him withered away.

-oOo-

Neji used the excuse of inspecting the room to avoid the pregnant silence between them. Somehow the silence was ten times more noticeable whenever they were indoors.

The room was actually rather generous when compared to the flophouse or the other places they'd been forced to sleep in. There were two narrow beds placed cater-corner to each other, an end table beside each, and a floor lamp. This last was a handsome affair, standing beside a very comfortable looking armchair. There were dark drapes at the window, and a small brass brazier that was doing an effective job of heating the room. Neji went to the window and looked out.

Night pressed at the glass. _Probably the last snow of winter_, he thought. _And too thick for me to go out in just now. _Which meant he couldn't just leave the room on a flimsy excuse. He'd have to deal with the tension, or else face Itachi. Gritting his teeth, he remained at the window.

He was a mess and he knew it. Deliberately giving Itachi mixed signals because he was too confused himself to make sense of anything anymore.

Finally, the pressure of the silence between them became too heavy to be borne. He turned around quickly, to find Itachi sitting on the farthest bed and staring at him. "I suppose another discussion is in order?" he said with difficulty.

"I suppose so," Itachi answered.

"Do you want to begin or should I?" He didn't like the look on Itachi's face. It was too composed, too remote…as if he'd hitched his indifference back in place.

"Do you have something to say?" Itachi asked.

_I don't even know who I am anymore. _"Not especially."

"Then I'll begin. I'm confused, Neji. And I need the absolute truth from you, no matter how harsh. Will you give me that?"

_This won't end well. _"Yes." And he would, too.

"All right, then. You can start by telling me exactly what it is you want from me. Besides sex."

What did he want? A good question. _I wanted him before, but now…_The irony of Itachi now asking him how they would proceed when he'd done the same thing himself after the falls was not lost on Neji. He sighed. "You want the truth? You do, you said you do. Well then, the truth is that a year ago I would have said sex, and that's it. Six months ago, I would have said what I wanted was to live with you as your lover and companion. To have you see me and want me."

"And now?" Itachi asked in a hushed voice. "You don't want those things anymore?"

Neji really thought about his answer, but he wasn't long in replying. After all, he'd been thinking of little else for the past week. And it would be good to get everything out in the open once and for all. Enough games. "I do want you. And I do want to be your lover. You're still ravishing, and you still excite me." _And I still love you. God…why do I feel like this if I still love him?_

"But?" Itachi swallowed, dreading the rest.

"But." Neji lowered his eyes, unable to look at him while admitting the truth. "But we seem to anger each other a lot. Even though I'm doing my best not to take charge, and even with you trying not to order me around. We rub each other wrong, it seems. This past week I did nothing but pay for our food and lodgings, or secure them for us, and you were livid. I feel like I can't be myself around you, since everything I do seems to meet with your disapproval."

Itachi thought about this. He thought about how Neji seemed able to alter his behavior and manner of speaking to suit whatever situation they were in. He'd seen the man play servant as adroitly as he acted as his assistant. Neji could be beggar, field hand, handyman, stable man, coachman, groom, butler, or businessman whenever the mood took him or circumstances required. Itachi had no idea who the _real_ Neji was though, other than someone who hated taking orders, and who thought himself equal to any man he met. "Not be yourself around me?" he said, suddenly angry. "Is that why you seem able to wear a hundred different personalities? Because of _me_?"

"No," Neji frowned. "That's not what I m-"

"Please." Itachi held up a hand and closed his eyes in an effort to bring his rising temper under control. It occurred to him that he'd never had a problem with his anger until Neji. "If I'm being honest, I have to say that you're right. We do rub each other the wrong way, nor can I be myself around you without angering you in turn. But then, what happens now? What of our…feelings for each other? Our attraction?"

"I don't know," Neji admitted. He dropped his eyes to the floor. "Maybe…maybe this was all a mistake."

"I see." _So I was right. He _is_ leaving me now that he's had me. I must have been a great prize for him. Quite a step up from the usual dregs of humanity he sleeps with. And I let him. Like some stupid girl who believes the gallantries men utter in order to steal liberties. _His rage was coming back, pushing past his bid for control as it thudded dully in his breast. "I don't suppose bedding whores gives one the ability to cultivate a lasting relationship," Itachi said scathingly. "On the contrary, it fosters the habit of taking one's pleasure and leaving."

Neji wished he could deny this, but he had an idea Itachi was right. Why else would he feel like this?

"I need only look at how you treated Mendoza," Itachi went on. "Am I the next casualty of your lusts?"

"I-"

"The truth, Neji. Despite your _feelings_ for me, and the assertion that you don't want to leave me, _will_ you?" _Let me hear him say it, if he has the gumption._

"I…don't know." His face burned with shame. "Itachi-"

Itachi stood up abruptly. "I've heard enough. Do you know, I find it fascinating the lengths you went to in order to get me to see you as desirable, only to cast me aside the moment I succumbed. Ah, but there's the rub. I _haven't_ succumbed completely. That's the reason you're leaving me, isn't it?" _Let that be the reason. Anything would be better than being just another romp in the hay for him._

"I haven't cast you aside."

"Yet. It's only a matter of time. The only thing you seem to want from me with any consistency is sex. You wanted it a year ago, you wanted it six months ago, and you want it still. As flattering as that is, I cannot help but wonder just why it is I rub you wrong. _I _wasn't the one playacting for the past year. You know _exactly_ who I am. You've always known. You had to have known I wouldn't change, and if I did that it wouldn't be overnight. And you…_seduced_ me anyway," Itachi said bitterly. "All your talk of feelings, your kisses, your smoldering glances…all designed to bend me to your will. And when I wouldn't, you pulled away. You haven't cast me aside, you said? That can only mean you still hope to fuck me. Well, Neji," and here Itachi drew himself to his full height. "I will not be your whore. Never again."

So saying, Itachi slammed from the room, leaving Neji to ponder his words. And the fact that, furious though Itachi was at the moment, he found nothing remotely funny or sexy about what had just happened.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

They'd had to put into a port in Cuba for a few days due to a short and vicious storm, but _Whirlwind_ was now making good time toward New York.

Naruto commissioned a new door for his cabin in Cuba. He and Sasuke then celebrated their individual escapes from death most thoroughly, especially once the storm had abated. Now they were on the main deck for the first time in days, enjoying the crisp, cool evening air.

Sasuke stretched. His body was deliciously sore in all the right places, and his cat-like grin said so. Watching him, Naruto smiled. "How're your injuries?"

"Healing. And yours? Are you still having headaches?"

Naruto tilted his head this way and that, testing. "It fades more and more each day."

Sasuke's answering smile withered. "I might have lost you. They tried to kill us both. I can only imagine what my brother must be going through."

"Neji's with him. Ei gave me a letter from him the same time he delivered the one from your brother. Itachi couldn't be in better hands. And… Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Sasuke. I was worried about your safety, that's all. That's no excuse, but-"

Sasuke turned his head away, and Naruto fell silent.

But Sasuke frowned as he stared at the moon's reflection on the water. The mention of Itachi, Neji, and letters reminded him of his own letter from his brother and the things Itachi had said in it. Specifically, those pages at the end. "Itachi wrote to me of Neji," he said thoughtfully.

"Did he? I thought he wrote to you about Madara?"

"He did, but a portion of his letter was about Neji. The pages were ruined in the water, but I remember what they said."

"And?"

"I don't know if you will believe me."

Naruto rested his arms on the railing, leaning closer to him. "Try me."

Sasuke told of how it seemed that his brother was developing an attraction toward Neji. "I knew Neji had feelings, and I'd secretly hoped that something would come of them, but…I can't quite credit my brother with the kind of thoughts and behavior he described…"

"So he's finally taking note of Neji's misbegotten feelings? Oh, to be a fly on the wall."

Sasuke blinked. Turned to look at him. "You knew of Neji's feelings for my brother too?"

Naruto nodded.

"How in hell did _you_ know? Did everyone know but me? First Gaara, now you?"

"Makes sense for Gaara to know, he lived in that house-"

"You've never been to my house."

"No, but Neji came to see me. The day we left New York. He told me then."

"What did he say?" Sasuke asked in a hushed voice, eyes wide. "My God…"

Naruto shrugged, looking at the water now. "That he couldn't leave the manor to come work for me because he didn't want to leave your brother. Any idiot could see how in love he was."

"In _love_?" Sasuke breathed.

"Yes."

Sasuke started to smile, then remembered something. "Why did you call his feelings misbegotten? I think it's beautiful!"

Naruto refrained from snorting or rolling his eyes. "Neji's not made for love."

"What!" Sasuke recoiled as if struck. "How can you say such a thing? Everyone was made for love."

Naruto turned to him, leaning an elbow on the railing. "You're a romantic, but I'm serious. Not everyone…can love. Or be loved. I guess that's what I really meant. That not everyone knows how to be loved. Neji and I, we were aware of our flaws. And we both had an aversion to love, for pretty much the same reasons."

"Which were?" Sasuke said, captivated.

"I didn't believe in it, personally. Not between men. And Neji…Well, I won't talk about his past, since that's his business, but Neji…" Naruto frowned and twisted his mouth, apparently searching for the right words. "He doesn't let things control him."

"Funny, he said the precise same thing about you."

"What did he say?"

Sasuke thought. "That…you didn't believe in weakening yourself with relationships. That you had to be master and commander of everything in your life. And that you feared what you couldn't control. That this was the reason you'd left me."

Naruto barked out a short laugh, and turned back to face the water. "He might have been right about that. We were two peas in a pod. Best friends. But Neji's all that and more."

"I don't believe you two are anything alike. Only look at how you _do_ love. I see how much you love me, Naruto, and how much power it has over you. It has the same power over me."

"Like I said," Naruto smiled. "He and I are alike, but only to a point. There are a lot of differences, and most of them are beneath the surface where you can't really see them."

"So…Neji doesn't believe in love either?"

Naruto was a long time answering. "I don't know if he believes in it or not, but I know that he just isn't the type to settle down and love one person, or let himself be tied to anyone. I mean, I like a general control of my life, but I can submit more or less, to things I can't fight." At Sasuke's disbelieving snort, he sheepishly amended that. "I can submit to my need for you, at any rate."

"If you can call the way you love submission," Sasuke said with a private clench of his sphincter. He had to hide his wince. Remembering the letter and Gaara's words, he said, "But what if he did? What if Neji did fall in love?"

"He'd run," Naruto said simply. "Cut loose and leave. At least, that's the Neji I know. But he wanted to stay in New York, so I could very well be wrong. I've never known him to pursue someone, or ever be in love. He has issues, Sasuke, things he doesn't talk about, but that are a big part of who he is. And unlike me, Neji has a nearly psychotic aversion to _anything_ controlling him in any way, shape, or form. Period." He turned to Sasuke suddenly. "Is your brother like you? Because if he is, then maybe I can see Neji falling for him and wanting to stay."

"Like me? In what way?"

"You know. So yielding. Is your brother as submissive as you are?"

Sasuke would have been the last person to classify himself as submissive, but he could see why Naruto would label him as such. "Itachi? Submissive? I forget, you've never really met him. My brother and I are like night and day."

"I find that hard to believe. You each seem as aristocratic, proud, and privileged as the other."

"I must work on changing your impressions of me. In any case, that is where the similarities end. My brother is not the least bit submissive in any way."

Naruto stared at him a moment. "Not at _all_?"

"No. Why?"

Naruto didn't answer. Privately, though, he didn't think he'd ever heard of a worse combination. "I didn't know your brother fancied men," he said instead.

"Neither did I."

"So…he doesn't?"

"If he does, Neji is the first."

Naruto slowly turned his head to look at Sasuke once more. "You must be joking. Though…Neji did say that Itachi was unaware of him, and possessed of natural appetites. What would make your brother take note of men if he never has before?"

"I honestly could not tell you. He said in his letter that he was attracted to Neji and didn't know how to go about it."

"About what?"

"Acting on the attraction." He squinted, trying to remember the exact words Itachi had used. "I believe he wanted to court Neji. Whatever the case, it didn't sound like a passing thing. And I know my brother. If there were ever someone he was interested in, he would be decisive about it."

_Worse and worse, _Naruto thought. "I don't like this. Sounds like a disaster."

Thinking of what Naruto had said about Neji and his past, he said, "Is Neji unbalanced? I cannot believe he is. I may not know him as well as you do, but I was around him for a year. My brother would not stand for a mentally unstable person handling his affairs. _Is_ he unbalanced?" His forehead was puckered in concern.

_In more ways than you know. _ "Let's just say that I'm not quite sure what he'll do. Having never been in love, or been faced with someone like your brother…" Naruto shook his head with a grimace. "I just don't know."

* * *

><p>The urge to pursue Itachi was strong for a moment, but Neji made himself sit on his bed. He'd needed the hours away from Itachi in that first town to settle his anger; perhaps Itachi needed the same courtesy just now. Besides which, he himself was in no condition to make coherent arguments, as evidenced by the way he'd just been soundly trounced by Itachi's words. He dropped his head into his hands and closed his eyes.<p>

If only he could _think_. Get his thoughts in order, and his feelings sorted out, and come to a blasted decision already. He felt as though his emotions were swinging one way, while his mind swung another, and his body swung in yet another direction. All pulling against each other, and none of them going the same way. And there he was, caught in the middle of it all. It just wouldn't do.

Much as he hated to admit it, Itachi was right. The man had never been anything but straightforward with him, and in fact had no experience with the mind games people played in relationships. He, on the other hand, had fucked things up nicely. For a moment Neji frowned, trying to understand himself. He was not accustomed to this much self-analysis.

'_I cannot help but wonder just why it is I rub you wrong._ I _wasn't the one playacting for the past year. You know _exactly_ who I am. You've always known.'_

That statement, more than any other Itachi had given, stung the most. He _had_ known. There _was_ no acceptable reason for why the man rubbed him wrong, no reason except…

_Go on. Say it, you dishonorable dog._

Except his own cowardice.

Neji experienced a level of shame that his own cousin would have declared worthy of _seppuku_. He had no doubt that if she could see him now, and know the extent of his crimes, she would send him Onward herself, unable to endure her kinship to someone so without honor. For himself, he was not so steeped in the customs of his homeland to see things as she did, but his offenses were still enough to curdle his stomach. Brutally, he listed them in his head, forcing himself to look at them.

One, he'd accused Itachi of being too dishonest with his feelings to approach him, only to turn around and become guilty of the same thing; Two, he wanted all of Itachi's affections, his surrender, when he himself could not give of himself to an equal degree; Third and worst of all, he ran. He ran from Itachi time and again, threatened to run if the man pushed him away, when in truth he was the one already pulling away.

Itachi wasn't blameless, Neji thought morosely. The man _was_ controlling, and tight-laced, and too uppity for his own good, but as already noted, Itachi had always been those things. What was wrong with him that he had to have the man change? Hadn't Itachi already surrendered to him in bed? What more did he want?

_Never mind that, let's discuss the real matter at hand, shall we?_

Neji cringed from that voice. It sounded remarkably like Naruto.

_You can handle Itachi's ways. The high-kick attitude, the need to be superior. You know how to have the man eating out of your hand, so let's cut the shit and own up to what this is really about: You love him. Went and got yourself all tangled up in him, until you can't see yourself anymore. The man has got your emotions in his manicured fist, and you can't pull free. Admit it. _

A moan of wretchedness left him.

_That said, if you can't pull free, then you might as well try. Try and see where it goes. Be with him. Might surprise yourself. At the very least, you owe the man an apology. He might not be the man you fell in love with at the moment, but then the circumstances he's in right now are hardly conducive to Itachi's normal state of mind, are they? Jesus, he lost his mother, and may have lost his brother, and all you can do is whine about his behavior? The man you love is still in there…and while we're on the topic, why _do_ you love him. What about him pulls at you so?_

That, he had no answer for, Neji concluded as he stood up. But at least he had a better grasp on things now. Not much of one, but far better than nothing.

* * *

><p>Itachi got as far as the common room. It seemed the worsening weather had driven everyone who'd been outside indoors. He could see through the frosted windows that the snow was beginning to gather in the streets, falling thickly and heavily. All manner of individuals crowded the modest room, down to the very poor. He spent several minutes staring around the crowded area, looking for a free chair to sit in, before a brazen woman in tattered clothing sidled up to him. She gave him a cheeky smile, displaying a few missing teeth and breath that was utterly foul. "Care for a tickle, my good sir?"<p>

His withering glance did nothing to dampen her spirits. "I was not aware that this was a saloon, with lightskirts in employ."

If the woman understood him, she gave no indication. Instead, she latched onto his arm and pressed her generous bosom against it, rubbing provocatively as she leaned up to his ear. "I can wilt that stiff upper lip for you, love, for the price of-"

"Be gone, before I have you arrested for prostitution," Neji snapped.

The woman melted into the crowd as if she'd never been. Itachi felt his spine straighten involuntarily as he turned to confront that voice. He was met with Neji's hooded gaze. Despite his raging anger, Neji's nearness had every nerve in his body uncomfortably aware of him. "I've nothing left to say," he managed.

"And I have a great deal to say," Neji countered. "If you'd be so kind?" His voice was unnaturally civilized, as his arm gestured back toward the stairs.

Unable to quite curb his wish to be out of the crush of bodies, Itachi preceded him, as offered. He had no doubt that another painful conversation was about to follow. He would stand his ground, he swore silently, and not give in to what was sure to be another display of Neji's swinish personality.

-oOo-

Once in the room, Neji bade him sit, while he himself paced restlessly back and forth. Itachi elected to remain aloof and unconcerned. Whether the bastard actually spoke or not was of no consequence to him. He could not care less, he tried to project, but his eyes betrayed him. Beneath his façade of indifference, they followed Neji's caged movements, unable to look away. The man had so much grace…

Neji turned, caught him looking, and did not look away himself. "It's unforgivable that I applauded your attempt at communication in that flophouse, only to turn around and fail to do so myself."

"I could not agree more," Itachi sniffed, somewhat surprised at the admission.

"What I have to say may not be pleasant, but it is the truth. Will you listen without interrupting?"

"I have manners, Neji. I do not need to be instructed on the etiquette of basic conversation."

Neji's pale eyes moved over the entirety of Itachi's body, taking in everything from the ramrod back, to the tightly-clasped hands.

Itachi colored and looked away.

"I apologize," Neji murmured. "I only meant that this is hard enough for me to say, and…I apologize."

"I accept, with gratitude," Itachi inclined his head. He could be gracious, he decided, when Neji was being so polite.

Neji paused, ordering his thoughts. "I have never pursued anything longer than a few hours of pleasure, you're right about that. To be honest, I've no idea how to go about it. Assuming one of us would lead and the other follow was rash, to say the least. Naruto may have accomplished it, but he and your brother are far different than you and I, and their situation is much simpler. I do know who you are, you're right on that count too.

"But you don't know who _I_ am. You said you want to know me…well, this is me. I'm sometimes rude, easily adaptable, but above all I am my own man. I do not take orders, Itachi. I don't bend to another's will easily. I can do a job, and take direction as far as that job is concerned, but for someone to direct me in my day-to-day life…no. I was wrong to expect submission from you, to demand it. That won't happen again. But you can't expect it of me either. I see the way my independence chafes at you."

Itachi glanced down at his lap, before meeting those eyes again. "It does," he admitted. "But perhaps it is only that I am used to subservience from you. From most of my acquaintances."

Neji nodded. Then deliberately went and knelt at Itachi's feet. He hesitated a moment, but rested his hands on Itachi's thighs in a wholly inappropriate, and utterly shocking gesture of familiarity. Itachi stiffened, his eyes widening and searching those gray ones, as Neji squeezed gently. "You asked what it is about you that rubs me wrong. It isn't that," Neji said, lowering his voice and squeezing again. "It's that you rub me the _right_ way, and I don't know how to adjust."

"I…I see." Itachi cleared his throat as inconspicuously as he could, feeling his skin heat alarmingly at the touch of those powerful hands. "I'm not sure what I can do about that."

"Neither am I." Neji moved closer, forcing Itachi to part his thighs and accommodate his torso. The way Itachi's handsome face turned brick red was a balm to his battered spirits. He lowered his voice further, and squeezed those solid thighs even harder, while inching his hands toward the straining crotch of Itachi's trousers. "You also asked if I'm leaving you."

"Y…y-_yes_," Itachi forced out. His jaw was tightly clenched. "And are you?"

Here, Neji glanced aside in hesitation. "I don't want to. But as we are both strong-willed men, I make no promises as to the outcome of our…relationship. It may be that we drive each other away, despite our best efforts. Regardless, I do recognize that discretion is of the utmost importance, contrary to what you think. I will adhere to that while in public as much as I'm able to. However."

"However?" Itachi's voice was hoarse; those hands were at his hips, the thumbs disappearing into the fork of his thighs, and doing wicked, wicked things.

Neji pulled his hands back to Itachi's knees, allowing the man clear thought for a moment. "However…the more discretion I'm forced to observe in public, the hungrier I'm likely to be in private. You can't tip the scale one way without expecting it to swing just as hard in the opposite direction once released." His eyes held Itachi's. "You understand me, I hope."

A barbed spike of sensation positively _shredded_ Itachi's innards as Neji's meaning became clear. "I do. Yes."

Neji's hands resumed their slow slide upward. "You understand _all_ I've said? Accept my sincere apologies for my disgusting behavior? I am forgiven?"

"Yes." The cloth of his trousers abraded his skin deliciously from the way those hands moved along his thighs. This faint friction put a film of sweat on his skin, and caused his nipples to tighten in awareness.

Neji's hands reached Itachi's hips and grasped. "And you understand I can make no promises about the future?"

"Yes. I do. It is…" the hands pulled sharply, pressing his aching genitals to the hard plane of Neji's abdomen. He had to bite back his moan. "It is only fair. I myself can…make no promises."

"Also…" His hands slid up Itachi's back now, beneath his evening jacket, to push the garment off. "Regarding the need for discretion and the likely effect it will have on our private interactions…for that I do not apologize. I will have you willing and submissive to whatever appetites I display, but I won't force you as I did before. What say you?"

"I b-beg your pardon?" Not only was he clasped tightly to Neji's body now, legs shamefully around the man's waist, but Neji's mouth ravished the exposed column of his throat with mind-numbing heat and gentleness.

"You'll give me my head when we're in private?"

"Yes. _Yes_. I will." How he'd longed for this, exactly this, for so many days. He let his head fall back against Neji's splayed palm as the devil's own tongue licked wet fire up to his ear and down again.

"No further complaints? Provided that I am the very soul of caution in public?"

"None. I swear it." His pulse throbbed frantically beneath the sharp edge of Neji's teeth.

"Then we're in agreement and our differences are laid to rest? For now?" He carefully bit at the throbbing vein beneath his lips.

"…Agreement…laid to rest…"

"Mmm," Neji hummed, burying his face in Itachi's neck. "Speaking of giving head…"

An odd comment, to be sure, one that Itachi hadn't the slightest inclination to puzzle out just then; Neji's months of performing valet duties were put to shame as Itachi found his clothes whisked away in record time. He sat nude, swollen, and shivering in need as Neji pressed him to a reclining position, thereby exposing him.

A moment later, those hands pushed his thighs wide. Moist kisses trailed alternating paths up his inner thighs. Soft, decadent kisses, that brought Neji's head to his groin. A second, wherein a single hot exhalation was enough to have a rash of goose flesh prickling his entire body, before that mouth, that terribly greedy mouth nuzzled at his egg pouch. And then, with brutal disregard for Itachi's sanity, that mouth made a slow and torturous exploration up the pulsating length of his shaft, where it spent long minutes circling his oversensitive tip. Lazy circles, with the juice of his arousal smearing around Neji's lips, over his chin, and around his mouth. Neji pulled back once, meeting his eyes to lick his lips clean. Itachi knew a moment of desire so acute, a desire to share the taste, to lick those lips clean himself, that he cursed. And then Neji's head bent back to source of this moisture, and the head of his manhood was swallowed. Only the head, as Neji sucked hard.

All control of himself gone, Itachi bucked and grunted, biting his lip to hold back the sounds; patrons of the hotel could be heard walking back and forth along the hall outside his door, speaking to one another, calling to each other. His panting and moaning went unheeded, though, until Neji finally swallowed him whole. Swallowed him to the root. It was relief and agony, pleasure and pain, as Neji seemed intent on sucking Itachi right into himself.

* * *

><p>The morning was hushed, all sound muffled by the thick blanket of snow that lay over everything. There was no traffic outside. Shops were closed, vendors home. The hotel's patrons were still abed this early, and only the proprietor and his sons up and about, cleaning the mess of last night's crowd. A sign had been hung on the door outside, informing people that there were no rooms available, and no loitering allowed.<p>

From the kitchen, the smell of baking cinnamon buns could be detected. It perfumed the entire building, wafting up from the first floor on the waves of heat set off by the braziers the proprietor's sons had set up.

Itachi stirred in Neji's arms. The smell of food reached past his sleeping mind, so that his stomach rumbled in response, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and that only a stale roll with a hard piece of cheese. He hadn't had a decent meal since the flophouse, come to think on it. The hours of feverish activity he'd engaged in during the night had further depleted his stores of energy. Weak, but inexpressibly content, he opened his eyes to greet the day as another hunger pang twisted in his belly.

The room was darkened, the light from the window gray. He could see snow on the windowsill, piled halfway up the panes, with more falling constantly. A small sound of dismay left him at this.

Neji tightened his arms around him. Holding him from behind as he was, and being so much taller, Itachi was neatly cocooned in smooth skin and hard muscles. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest in deference to the slight chill in the room, but Neji's arm covered both of his, warming him. "What's wrong?" Neji murmured.

"The weather. We won't be traveling northward anytime soon."

"That only means Madara is having the same trouble. Besides, he doesn't know about Clinton. Trust me, if we can't move, neither can he."

"I suppose. It's only that-"

"Shh." Neji's other arm was pillowed beneath Itachi's head. He curved that hand around now, so that he could turn Itachi's head to face him. The loose black hair became tangled in his fingers, partially spilling over Itachi's face as he bent and kissed him deeply. "Let me see if I can't distract you for a moment…"

Itachi's body arched at the sudden, thick glide of heat in his ass, but Neji squeezed both his arm and his hand around him, keeping him still. The accumulation of Neji's seed from previous couplings, much of which was still dripping from his hole, eased the penetration. Neji's hair, also loose, covered his top half and Itachi's both, slipping over them as he struck up a languid pace. "Oh…God. _Neji_."

Slow as they were, the thrusts were so forceful that speech was impossible. He hadn't even the strength to maintain Neji's kiss- his head fell back against the bunched muscle of Neji's arm as his body went completely limp. He allowed himself to be used, for his body to be twisted to Neji's satisfaction, for his chute to be stretched and filled with the satiny steel of Neji's cock. Some of those thrusts pushed so deep, and were held in the depths of his guts for such long seconds, that he felt himself quake helplessly. He could not keep in his moans, but then Neji's long fingers reached over his face, spreading his hair even more, and gently covered his mouth.

In fact Neji's hair was also a mess now. It fell down to one side of them, curtaining them from all light. Itachi was minded of pagan paintings he'd seen in school, depictions of idolatry and demon worship and the wild cavorting of naked men and women in the forest. Neji's wild hair, his glittering eyes, the way his face hovered a scant half inch above his own…he was a god of a different sort. One Itachi could well believe engaged in primal, primitive practices beneath a full moon. He was lord of the feverish movements between them, master of Itachi's rising heart rate, and the deity to which he would gladly prostrate himself in exchange for the full, tight feel of Neji's body in his. He craved it. That pleasure that simmered beneath the threshold of pain, the way it weakened him and robbed him of thought until his sole focus was Neji. Only Neji.

-oOo-

The distraction lasted considerably longer than a moment. Some time later, when they'd managed to wash in the frigid water a maid had brought up, and dressed, they descended to the hotel common room, ordered breakfast, and tried to take stock of their situation.

There wasn't much to discuss. Over coffee and cinnamon rolls, they were able to overhear several travelers complaining of the fact that the railroad had shut down indefinitely. Rooms were now at a premium, with more than one bedraggled man coming up to their table to ask if they'd mind sharing theirs.

Neji remained silent, letting Itachi, who seemed born for these kinds of situations, handle the inquiries. He was cool and aloof to such a degree that word soon spread that _that_ table was not forthcoming at all. Some of the other patrons did opt to share their accommodations. Itachi sniffed at this, and turned to Neji.

"It would seem we're to remain here. Did the proprietor try to wheedle a higher price for the room from you?"

"He did. I explained to him that as he rented it to me under a certain price, that he had to continue to do so."

"And he made no further argument?" Itachi was impressed.

"I'm persuasive when I want to be."

"Ah. That you are." It was hard to look Neji in the eye, given his memory of the intensity of their lovemaking last night, and again this morning. Images from both times kept superimposing themselves over his eyes, causing him to breathe with difficulty. Itachi forced himself to hold the calm gray gaze, though, as he said, "I'm glad we've put the animosity between us to rest. I feel we're getting on much better now, don't you?"

Neji had to work at not inhaling his coffee as he laughed. "Yes, Itachi, I do. Much, much better. I trust my discretion is meeting with your satisfaction?"

"Quite." In fact, Itachi rather thought Neji was being _too_ discreet. A ludicrous thought. One could never be too discreet. He simply hadn't expected such complete capitulation, or for the man to be so successful. They _had_ reached an agreement, though, and for that Itachi had to be grateful. He slid a glance toward where Neji sat calmly now, assessing him.

Neji carried himself as if he were nothing more than an acquaintance who happened to be traveling with him. His voice and expression were polite and neutral. He did not stare at Itachi, or betray by so much as a glance the fact that they'd spent most of the night locked in each other's arms. To see him now, with his long hair tamed into an intricate plait, and his eyes coolly distant, one would never know that an hour gone Neji had been emptying his seed into him with a low grunt of pleasure.

It took some adjusting to, but Itachi found the contrast of Neji's private persona, and this upright citizen so stimulating that he didn't mind. He need only remember that the more distant Neji was in public, the hotter his passion burned in private for him to view Neji's composure with approval. Why, it was indecent, how arousing Neji's blank expressions were. They put perverse thoughts of Neji's mouth swallowing him whole in his mind, and caused his cheeks to flame in mortification…and no small amount of desire.

"What are we to do for the three days we are here?" he said when he'd cleared his throat.

Neji cast an idle glance at the window, where snow blew about in agitated swirls. "To begin with, I'll be requesting our room for a week. Even if this snow stopped tomorrow, it would be days before the railroad is up and running again. Beyond that…" Neji kept his gaze on the window, studying the snowfall. "I'm sure you and I could find something to occupy ourselves." He took another sip from his coffee mug.

"Oh?" Itachi almost looked out the window to see what Neji could mean. "Such as?"

"Such as an elaboration on the matter we discussed last night and this morning."

"Matter? We discussed no-" Oh. _Oh, dear lord_. "I…see." Itachi was suddenly very interested in his own cup of coffee, and devoted an enormous amount of time to topping it up from the pot on their table. "I don't suppose you mean it would take us the entire week to elaborate?" His hand shook slightly, making the pot clatter against the rim of his mug.

Neji's eyes slid to Itachi's hand at hearing the clatter, and noted the tremor. "Well, if one were a coarse brute, with no refinement whatsoever, I imagine there'd be no elaboration at all. I happen to be very knowledgeable on the topic in question, though…an elaboration could take years."

"_Years_…?" Itachi's eyes met Neji's bland ones.

"You're spilling the coffee."

"Oh…blast." Itachi blotted the mess with his napkin.

"A week is nothing," Neji resumed. "Unless you feel you've had enough?"

Called upon to actually answer such a question, Itachi stalled by sipping from his mug. It was beyond belief that anyone should admit to craving such pleasure, especially out loud. "I believe…I could continue the discussion, if I had to."

"Do you want to?"

"I…" Itachi set his mug down, and concentrated on folding his stained linen napkin in precise folds. "Yes."

"I'm pleased to hear it. If you're done with breakfast, I will meet you in the room just as soon as I've spoken to the proprietor."

"Oh…all-already?" Itachi cursed his stutter of anticipation. "We only just came down…"

"Of course, I'd be more than happy to keep you company here, if you wish." Neji set his empty mug down as well, and crossed his legs. He looked off into the common room, at the other patrons breakfasting. He was the very picture of leisure.

Itachi lasted ten minutes. "It's rather chilly down here," he said as he stood. He made a show of casually buttoning his waistcoat, and smoothing it. "I believe I'll retire to the room after all, where it's warmer."

-oOo-

Neji waited until Itachi had climbed the stairs before convulsing in a silent fit of laughter.

The arrangement between them was not only working, but also giving him everything he wanted. Had he known that being discreet would work in his favor so well, he'd have agreed to it ages ago.

Calming himself with an effort, Neji stared at the chair Itachi had so recently occupied, and considered this turn of events.

He might not have any control over Itachi, but he damn well had control of himself, he reasoned. In public he need only withhold all contact from Itachi under the guise of discretion, until the man was as butter in his hands, and Itachi would be all too happy to succumb in private. He would have the control he needed after all. Itachi burned for him. Not that he himself wasn't feeling the claws of desire in his loins, but there too, Itachi had unwittingly handed him all he wanted. He had the man's direct permission to indulge himself unchecked whenever they were alone.

And the best part was that it was all Itachi's plan, not his. He was merely adhering to it. Was he a bastard for still wanting control? Probably. But, Neji told himself as he spotted the proprietor entering the common room, he'd be doing nothing Itachi himself hadn't expressly agreed to.

* * *

><p>One learned proper drawing room etiquette almost before they learned to speak, if one were born to privilege. As such, Itachi did not pace in his impatience for Neji to return. He sat calmly in the room's armchair, legs crossed, hands demurely clasped across his stomach. A maid had freshened the brazier in the corner with fresh coals, so the room was nice and toasty, but this was not what beaded his brow with perspiration.<p>

By the time Neji entered the room some minutes later, Itachi was squeezing his thighs together against the stubborn swell of his arousal. "You were gone quite a while."

"I took the liberty of telling one of the proprietor's sons to check on our horses." Neji shut the door quietly, paused, then deliberately twisted the key in the lock. The faint _click_ seemed to punctuate what they both knew were coming.

Itachi couldn't quite mask his shiver. "That's good. I hadn't given them a thought, to be frank." Somehow, discussing these mundane things also highlighted what they were about to do. "And the room? There was no trouble securing it for additional days?"

"Oh, there was some trouble," Neji said, as he peeled off his jacket. He hung it on the coat rack behind the door. "The man went on and on about how he had people waiting for it, at the increased price, and how renting it to me on _our_ agreed price was costing him money."

"What did you do?"

Neji gave a half smile that played havoc with Itachi's breathing. "Why, I negotiated, of course. Physically." He went to their saddles bags and withdrew something, before sauntering over to Itachi. "How would you have handled it?"

"I'm not sure the man would have dared speak to me as he spoke to you." He had to tilt his head to continue to meet Neji's gaze. "What is that?"

Neji looked at the leather pouch in his hand. "One of the things we'll be using to elaborate on our discussion."

-oOo-

Itachi found himself stretched out on the bed some time later, nude. Neji knelt between his spread legs, much as he had the previous night, only this time he held a small shaving brush. To Itachi's intense embarrassment, thick, foamy lather was being applied to his nether regions.

At seeing and hearing the straight razor flicked open, a protest rose to his lips. "Neji…"

"Relax," Neji smiled. "You know I have steady hands. I'll take extra care not to geld you." He passed the razor on the strop several times, sharpening it the way he always did before and after a shave.

"It isn't that…it's the fact that one does not shave their unmentionable parts!"

"One does if they engage in certain practices," Neji grinned. "In certain parts of the world men and women both go completely hairless. Why, if we were in Japan, or even if my cousin were present, I would have an ointment that would do away with the need for a razor entirely. Hold still."

"This is very undignified," Itachi muttered. "Outrageous, even." But he did agree to submit whenever they were private. This seemed like a small thing to submit to.

The cool and precise slide of the razor against such a sensitive area was a novel experience, to say the least. Neji was quick and thorough, blotting the area dry with a length of toweling afterward. Itachi leaned up on his elbows and inspected himself. The sensation of air against his privates was unnerving, but very…enjoyable, he decided.

"Now," Neji said once he'd put away the shaving items. "We may continue." He stood by the room's one window, and slowly began unfastening his shirt. "Come to me."

The command rankled. However, seeing as Neji was exposing that broad chest of his, and his trousers were now being undone, it did not rankle _too_ badly. Walking across the room in his skin was definitely not Itachi's idea of fun, though. It was barbaric to behave so crudely. He said as much once he'd joined Neji, who was now just as nude. "I fail to see why we cannot be nude beneath the blankets," he added. "For God's sake, the curtains aren't even drawn. Someone may see us and report us."

"Who," Neji murmured, turning Itachi so he faced the window, "do you think would be able to see us in this weather?" He came up behind Itachi and pressed himself along the back of him. "Besides which, the panes are frosted over, and we are two floors up."

Itachi tried not to arch against the heated length of Neji's body, but the feel of his manhood called to him. It settled along the groove of his buttocks like a red-hot poker. "Still…"

"As for the nudity…I enjoy looking at you. Your body is magnificent, quite worthy of being sculpted in marble."

Itachi felt himself warming in both pleasure and shame. "You are scandalous."

"You have no idea. I wonder, "Neji purred, resting his chin on Itachi's shoulder. "Do you remember what I did to you last night? Before we climbed in bed?"

"I'd be a simpleton if I didn't."

"Tell me."

Itachi shifted in Neji's loose embrace. "I will not! You may have no shame, but I-"

"Shame? I thought it was understood between us that nothing we did was wrong or shameful?"

"Well, it's indecent."

"Considering the fact that you are standing naked in another man's arms, I'd say we're well past decency, wouldn't you? Come, tell me what I did."

"You…" Itachi closed his eyes. "You put your…mouth…oh, this is _ridiculous_, I will _not_ utter such a thing!"

Neji hid his smile between Itachi's shoulder blades. "As you wish. However, it seems to me that if one can't say it, one can't enjoy it. I'll refrain from that particular activity until you're comfortable. In the mean time, allow me to elaborate on the wonders of oral gratification."

"What?" Itachi tried to twist around, as he felt Neji's lips moving down the valley of his spine. "What do you mean, refrain? I never said I didn't enjoy it, or that I was uncomf- CHRIST, NEJI!"A moment later, all sound left Itachi as he had to turn and quickly catch himself against the windowsill. He leaned one hand against the ledge, and made feeble swipes behind himself with the other, where Neji's head was pressed to his lower cheeks. Neji chuckled. The vibrations from this had Itachi's knees completely unhinged. He put both hands on the sill now, drawing in ragged lungfuls of air. "Neji…Neji, you must _stop_."

Neji did.

Itachi turned shakily to find him standing, and looking quite unapologetic. "How _dare_ you do such a thing, are you _mad_?" he gasped. He brought a hand to his face and saw that it was trembling.

Neji closed the distance between them and lifted him, suddenly and powerfully, as one lifted a bride. He deposited him on his bed, and joined him, silencing Itachi's strident sounds of disapproval with a finger to his lips. "If I'm mad, then I'm mad for you, Itachi. There is no part of your body that I'll deny myself. Open your legs."

"You-"

"_Open your legs._"

He did so, and had to cover his groan with a hand; Neji's mouth –hot and wet and distressingly clever- covered his anus once more and proceeded to torment him. The absence of hair made a noticeable difference to just how much more he was able to feel, a fact he'd noticed by the window. _What kind of depraved individual has such knowledge? _Itachi thought. _Removing hair… _But thought was quickly becoming difficult.

Neji kept his hands against the backs of his thighs, preventing him from lowering his legs, as he nibbled and bit inquisitively. The feel of those lips, the subtlety of them, was nearly unbearable. No crevice or fold of skin was left unexplored by that dreadful tongue, but when Neji covered his opening with his mouth and sucked...Itachi bit his hand nearly hard enough to draw blood, the pleasure was so intense. Jagged bolts of it snapped along his spine, and through his body, until he was stiff and leaking, and holding his own legs out of the way.

And when Neji made as if to pull away, Itachi buried both hands in his hair and held him in place.

"More?" Neji husked, meeting his eyes.

"_Yes_," he whispered.

* * *

><p>Thereafter, it was understood that no further protests would be tolerated. And if Itachi were truthful with himself, the things Neji did left him no strength to resist. Worse, he didn't <em>want<em> to resist.

Sights and sounds devolved into a panorama of sensuality. Itachi was aware of very little outside of Neji. The strength of his hands, each individual callus. The texture of his lips, and how they felt one way when pressed to his feverish skin, and quite another when locked with his own. Neji's tongue, and the way it seemed able to encompass a hundred different textures, all of them hot, all of them moist. The smell of Neji, by turns hot and spicy, or warm and inviting, yet always exciting. And his voice. That voice that could have desire like molten honey coursing through his veins with a whisper of his name, or have tongues of wildfire licking his insides with a command.

As was the case some time later. Whether it was the same day or the next, he had no idea. All sense of time seemed to exist outside of their room. Itachi lay limp and spent on one of the beds, he had no idea whose, as Neji milked his spurting cock. The man gave a final swipe of his thumb to his dripping slit, before crawling up his body. Itachi had the back of one wrist against his forehead, weak beyond the telling of it. He watched Neji come, as an animal watches itself stalked. Neji resembled nothing so much as a hungry panther; all his hair cascaded to one side of his handsome face. His light gray eyes were narrowed with intent. That mouth of his lowered towards him, stopping when it was an inch above his own. "Put your arms about my neck."

It was only after he'd complied –and several long, soul-scorching kisses later- that he became aware of the blunt feel of Neji's shaft at his entrance. He relaxed his sphincter immediately, lifting his legs to cradle Neji's waist. "One wonders how you went a year without sex, as often as you want it," he murmured against Neji's lips.

"It was hell, to be sure." Neji indulged himself in one more kiss. The man's mouth was irresistible. "Mmm…suppose we try something different."

Itachi was reluctant to give up Neji's mouth. He leaned up to pursue it, answering between kisses. "I'm listening…"

"Can you feel me? How ready I am to fuck you?" He gave a little nudge with his hips.

"Yes…"

"Tighten your ass muscles against me. Don't let me in."

Experimentally, Itachi closed his ring as tightly as possible, even as Neji nudged again, harder this time. The way sensation seemed to gather and focus on this one small area had his heart doubling its tempo, and his breathing deepening. "_Oh_."

"Yesss…just like that. Fight me, don't let me win."

A shudder of throbbing pleasure went through Itachi as Neji made it past with a popping sound. "Ahn…" That one quick slide weakened him, causing him to relax around the thick intrusion, wanting more.

"Again," Neji panted, withdrawing. "Fight me again."

For some unknowable amount of time, they persisted, sweat coating them liberally now, as this mock battle had pleasure swamping their senses. Itachi twisted on the bed, holding his quivering hole tightly shut, as Neji pressed and pressed for entry. The act of squeezing those muscles was almost too much, intensified his pleasure too much, and at times _was_ too much to be borne. Those were the times when a near-climax had him relaxing the muscles involuntarily. Neji would plunge into him deeply, stroke his insides a few times with his unyielding cock, before pulling out again. And always, the rasped command of "Fight me. Fight me," until sane thought was a distant memory, and the only reality was the steep peaks of pleasure shooting through him.

Itachi begged. Not in so many words, but through his bitten off sobs of pleasure, the way he twisted in Neji's arms, how he dragged the man's head down for humid kisses while trying, trying, trying to resist that heavy cock. His heart pounded out an urgent demand to be filled completely, and hammered over the edge of reason. Denying Neji entry had the perverse effect of making him crave and crazed for his possession. At last he did beg outright. "Neji…_please_."

Neji gave in to the pull of Itachi's hot body with a groan of surrender. He punished them both, forcing himself past the tightly closed muscles, pressing himself as deep as possible, and deeper, until Itachi bucked in his arms and dragged at the back of his head by a handful of his hair. Itachi yanked, and Neji felt himself tear free of his usual restraint much as a few strands of his hair were torn free. Shaking his head furiously, he dislodged Itachi's grip and proceeded to fuck him blind, his control temporarily gone.

Itachi hung on through the worst of it, pulling Neji in for a fierce kiss. Once, he managed to reverse their positions. There was a wild, jerky ride, with Neji guiding his hips, his nails digging into his skin, before he was slammed to his back again. The sheer depth Neji subjected him to was enough to maim him, but he welcomed it. He welcomed it all, even the bites. He gave a bite or two himself, goaded by Neji's grunting madness.

This seemed to have the opposite effect than Neji's bites had on him; at feeling Itachi's teeth sink into his shoulder after a particularly violent thrust, Neji seemed to come to himself. His movements gradually slowed to gentle rocking, and he smoothed Itachi's hair back with his hands, supporting himself on his forearms. He pressed a long, close-lipped kiss to Itachi's mouth, just holding there as their breathing calmed. "Itachi…"

But he couldn't say it. Not now, possibly not ever. Itachi reached up and stroked the hair from his own brow. Looking into those dark eyes, Neji thought he saw knowledge of the words anyway. An awareness of how deeply they were becoming entwined, certainly. Just as they had in the mine, they were both aware of some unseen force binding them together. The knowledge sat unspoken between them both.

After some time, Itachi whispered, "Don't stop."

Dropping his forehead to Itachi's, Neji slowly picked up the pace, until he found his original tempo, and the moment was lost in heat, and dark, syrupy passion.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

For several days the arrangement suited them both.

There was a fine balance between them, one that required no effort to maintain. So novel was the idea of sexual indulgence, of slaking desires to the point of excess –with someone they each desired fiercely- that for a time the hours spent behind their locked door was enough. Venturing outside the room was done for sport; it amused them to pretend they were moral, upright citizens. As if they had a secret. Which they did. Thoughts on what the other patrons would say if they knew afforded them much laughter when they retreated to their room. Then too, the way Itachi became the aristocrat, and Neji his traveling companion whenever they left the room only served to have them twice as eager when they were alone.

As he'd decided the morning after the mine, Itachi allowed himself to be freer than he'd ever been when alone with Neji.

And, as noted, Neji did absolutely nothing untoward when outside the room, with the result that he had all of Itachi that he could possibly want.

When a change came, it was so subtle that neither of them realized it. They had difficulty even identifying it as a change, much less what the change meant.

-oOo-

"Do you pleasure yourself?"

Itachi stirred where he was curled on his side. The question had been a quiet rumble against the back of his shoulder. He could feel a thick finger following the groove of his spine, and the sensation made him shiver. Without turning around, he smiled. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know you heard me, so I'll assume you have no idea what I mean." A kiss on his shoulder now, and the finger moving over his hip, where the entire hand skimmed over his abdomen. "Do you ever touch yourself the way I touch you?"

"Of course not."

"Why not?"

"Why would I?" The lips on his shoulder moved to his neck. He found himself not only allowing it, but tipping his head into the pillow to facilitate greater access.

"I can think of a few reasons." Neji let his hand smooth up to one nipple, where he proceeded to tease the little point. "Namely the fact that you're so repressed."

"I? _Repressed_? Hardly."

"Controlled, then. You're very controlled."

"As any man should be. _Oh_…" The way his entire body seemed to tingle when his nipple was pinched made him catch his lip.

"Hmm. Well, I only wondered what controlled men such as yourself did with their desires. I know some take mistresses, just as I know that you don't."

"Your point being?"

"My point," Neji murmured, letting his hand move down to Itachi's groin, "is that the man sharing this room with me is a damned lusty one. What did you do with that lust before I came along?" He let his hand hover over the weeping length of flesh without touching it.

"Do? Nothing. Neji…"

"I thought not. Mmm…" He gathered Itachi close, smothering him with his body, and burying his face in the back of the man's neck. "You're such an oddity sometimes. But I love that about you."

Itachi managed to turn in Neji's arms so that they were face to face, and tried to kiss him. Neji pulled back, his lips just out of reach. "Kiss me," Itachi said.

"Ah, but I'm the one leading when we're alone," Neji chuckled. He relented and let his mouth be captured. Then he rolled with Itachi, putting him on his back, and deepening the kiss. He felt the legs clamp around his waist immediately. Even better, Itachi rocked his hips against him, thrusting so that the slick tip of his shaft slid and circled between their abdomens. Neji broke the kiss with a little hum.

"_Must_ you keep pulling back?" Itachi studied the grey eyes; they fairly danced with amusement.

"Why, Itachi. I'm _shocked_ at this aggression. Could it be that you want something?"

"You know very well what…oh, do stop moving."

Neji continued to avoid the invitation of Itachi's ass. With his legs raised as they were, Itachi's cheeks were spread, his hole likely hot and moist in readiness. Resisting was an effort; his own cock kept grazing that ridged ring of muscles and each brush sent goosebumps over his skin. Still, he rolled off Itachi completely to say, "If you want pleasure, I'm afraid you'll have to do it yourself."

Itachi went still, leaning up to search Neji's grinning face. "Myself. You cannot be serious?"

"But I am."

"This is cruel. If I've erred-"

Neji silenced him with a finger to his lips. "This isn't punishment. I just want to show you that there's more than one way to experience pleasure. All right?"

Skeptical, Itachi remained silent, looking down at him. Understanding dawned. "You can't mean…?"

Neji nodded.

"Never. If you think I'm going to let you try to reform me into some base-"

"I only want you to stop being such a prude."

"Prude! A- Do you realize that the things I allow you to do to me are the farthest thing from prudery? That no self-respecting man even _acknowledges_ sexual urges, much less engages in them with the shamelessness I have displayed? _Do you?_"

"I realize you no longer respect yourself, if what you're saying is true. And that you're still ashamed on some level. Tell the truth. What's so wrong about what I'm suggesting? I would think you'd view it with more favor than the other things we do."

"You are mad."

"That has been established," Neji said in a mock growl. He snaked a hand behind Itachi's neck and pulled him in for a hard kiss. "I'm mad for your body. You _will_ come to enjoy _everything_ I suggest," he added with a last peck. He made as if to get up, but Itachi blocked him with an arm. Neji raised one brow.

"Show me," was all Itachi said.

Neji leaned back and considered this, looking at Itachi thoughtfully. "You're sure?"

"Show me," he said again.

"There's nothing really to show; simply put your hand where you want pleasure." The idea, though, of Itachi servicing himself put a sudden grin on his face. "If you dare…"

As if to prove himself equal to the challenge in that grin, Itachi sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Though it reddened his cheeks, he stared down at his member. It was erect, thanks to Neji's hands earlier. The sight of it put a knot of disquiet in his belly. As if he were doing something he shouldn't be. He could feel Neji at his back, curling around his hips so that he could watch with one hand propped beneath his head.

"Lost your nerve?" Neji chuckled.

Resolutely, Itachi reached down and grasped his cock.

The intake of air that filled his lungs gave him time to think. Of course he'd touched himself before. Traveling as they were, he'd been forced to handle himself when answering calls of nature, unable to sit the way he did in his bathroom at home. That was nothing compared to this. At those times he'd touched himself with two fingers, dispensing with the chore as quickly as possible. To hold himself so intimately, and _masturbate_…he hadn't done so since the early days of his youth. He could forgive his actions then as being done in ignorance. He'd been little more than a child; what was done in childhood had no bearing on the adult one became, and as an adult, handling himself was _not_ something Uchiha Itachi ever did.

Watching the proceedings keenly, Neji smiled. "Is that all? I must say, you've handled _me_ with a good deal more enthusiasm."

True, Itachi thought. But touching Neji and touching himself were nothing alike. He was usually panting in desire whenever he touched Neji. This was almost clinical. He felt nothing more than self-disgust. Cock now soft, he began withdrawing his hand. "This is absurd."

"I agree." But the grey eyes remained on his.

"I suppose I've confirmed your impressions of me," Itachi said, looking away.

"Actually, I was thinking of fucking you again. Dry. No oil."

Itachi slowly turned his head back to look at him.

"I'd lay you out on the bed there," Neji continued, pointing to the other bed across the room with his chin. "Spread you wide. Lean down and…just graze my teeth along your throat."

Itachi swallowed, looking down at where Neji's head was propped near his hip. The grey eyes were thoughtful now, looking inward at the scene he described.

"Then down to your nipple. Maybe a little nip there" –Itachi shuddered involuntarily, as if feeling this- "then down your stomach. I'd stop there. Another little bite. Love biting you. Love sinking my teeth into you, really chomping down on those muscles… Your skin is so deliciously firm."

He was only barely able to catch the drop of saliva that pooled at the corner of his mouth. Itachi licked it away before he could shame himself by drooling openly, and realized that he was hard again. All but feeling Neji's teeth on his skin, his cock was hard and throbbing…and surrounded by his fist.

"And then…after I'd bitten and licked, bitten and soothed again, I'd move lower. Down to what I really want." Neji's eyes chose this moment to fasten on Itachi's cock, inches from his face, with piercing intensity. "I can smell it by now. That spice, that…that _zing_ that's you and you alone. Every man has his own smell, you know. And I know yours. All I need is one whiff and I'm ready. Ready to fuck you blind, until you're screaming and shaking and ripping the skin off my back…but not yet," he whispered as he watched Itachi's response to his words slither out in a silken rivulet. "Not yet. First that smell. The way it sucks me in, makes me swallow you whole. All the way down my throat, filling it. It's so good… Sometimes I wish I could really swallow you completely. Chew you up and swallow you till you're in my guts. I can't though, so I settle for pulling you in as deep as I can handle it. And the way you _ooze_ on my tongue…God…so salty. So _good_."

Itachi's hand was completely coated. Eyes closed, seeing the images Neji painted for him, he squeezed with a certain savage triumph and began moving his hand. Slowly at first, reveling in the pleasure found at last, but without hesitation.

Neji watched a moment, hiding his smile. He could feel the heat of Itachi, feel the way his lower cheeks flexed and clenched where they were pressed against his groin. Itachi's left thigh was pressed to his chest and he could feel that limb quivering as well. "Only when you were seconds from bursting would I stop," he resumed. "Stop and pull back. Let those juices coat my tongue. Swallow. Suck the rest of your spunk right out of you. Make you give it up against your will. I'd be licking your slit, digging for more. Running my tongue around the head of your meat, sucking for all I was worth the entire time. _Slurping _and_ drooling _and_ gulping. _Out of breath. _Hungry_. God, I'd be hungry for it."

Itachi's hand moved faster, squeezed harder. He sensed Neji moving. Felt a loss of heat as Neji changed his position. Heard his voice from somewhere in front him. Kneeling in front of him, he thought.

"Then…then when you couldn't stand it anymore, I'd push your legs up. All the way up, until they were on my shoulders. Bend you double, have that tight, hot ass open for me. My cock would be aching fit to kill by now, but I wait. Just set the head over your fuckhole and wait. Making you sweat. Feeling your hole trying to suck me in. Feel it pulsing against me." He had his hands lightly resting to either side of Itachi's thighs. His cock was so close…so close. All he had to do was lean forward slightly and he could taste it. "Stand up," he said.

Itachi heard the husky command and did so without thinking. Better. But the position was worse, too. It gave him more control, but also intensified the pleasure he was trying to moderate. His hand sped up; his head went back briefly.

"I love watching your face as I enter you," Neji hissed. "The way it contorts, how your eyes somehow get even darker. And when I enter you this time, I ram so deep-"

"God. No. _Neji_."

Neji didn't stop, gauging the reaction his words were having even as he moved closer to Itachi. "It's like I touch your soul with my cock. I'm in so deep I can feel every twitch, every clench of those inner muscles along my rod." Stray drops of Itachi's arousal hit his face with the force of those hand movements, nearly driving him mad with the desire to really swallow him. Itachi was close, Neji could tell. Very close. "Then, when I finally begin fucking you…"

Itachi heard the words and felt the heat and pressure coiling in his guts suddenly begin to unravel. It felt as if his spine was being jerked right out of him.

"Open your eyes," Neji said. His voice was low and urgent. "Come on my face."

Itachi looked down to find that he was doing just that, coating Neji's face with wave after wave of his seed. His eyes met Neji's, the words the man had used to weave that spell of abandon still hanging around them both, and his heart spasmed painfully. Something leapt from Neji's eyes, leapt into him, and settled there for good. Something that would kill him if he tried to tear it loose.

The moment lasted an eternity, each of them panting.

Itachi finally looked away and dropped heavily to the bed, still shaking. But he was reaching for Neji a moment later, pushing the uncomfortable connection they'd shared aside, in favor of something more immediate. "Do it. Take me. Now."

Neji licked the last of Itachi's seed from his lips, letting himself be pulled atop the man. Despite the climax, Itachi was still hungry, he saw. He let himself be kissed for a while, noting Itachi's lack of comment on the messy state of his face. He couldn't decide if he was pleased by Itachi's ardor, or if his clear desire to forget what had just transpired bothered him. But then he remembered the look they'd shared afterward, and the feeling of finality he'd sensed. As if no matter how hard he ran, or how much he denied it, he was no longer Hyuuga Neji. Not in the strictest sense. Now he was some fusion, some creature with Itachi's heart and soul in his breast instead of his own. This thought spooked him enough to have him gently ending the kiss.

"I would love to," he murmured, hovering over Itachi's mouth. He kissed him again. "But not now." He sat up and swung his legs off the bed. "You did beautifully, but it's nearly dusk. I want to see if Hinata sent a telegram."

Distracted, Itachi frowned. "If she isn't here by the time the railroad is up and running, we'll be leaving without her." He felt moisture on his face, realized what it was, and wiped it away with a grimace.

"So I've told her, but I'm not sure she's getting my telegrams either."

Watching Neji dress, Itachi couldn't decide if he was disappointed that things hadn't progressed, or relieved. His body still hummed, but even now the feeling was subsiding. He couldn't quite believe that he'd been pleasuring himself not ten minutes ago, against his firm beliefs, or how he'd climaxed on Neji's face. That moment afterward... Itachi closed his eyes.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he couldn't seem to get over the startling realization that Neji could bring him to such a state of arousal with mere words. The man never ceased to amaze him. Was there nothing beyond Neji, no boundary he wouldn't cross? _And is there nothing I won't stoop to in the name of being with him?_

* * *

><p>Seeing the manor was a shock. Itachi's letter had focused on Madara, on their mother, on Neji…but not so much on anything else. To see a gaping hole in the roof, a fallen tree to one side of the manor, and obvious weather damage elsewhere on the house had him pulling up short. Naruto brought his horse near to his, causing their legs to brush together. "What is it?"<p>

"Itachi said…well, I had no idea the estate had fallen into such disrepair." Sasuke shivered as a gust of snow-laden wind blew over them.

"It's probably just this latest storm. You heard the dock master, city's at a stand still. He probably couldn't get anyone to come out and make repairs."

"Yes. That must be it." Sasuke glanced around from the cover of his hat and scarf. "Still, I sent a telegram to him from Cuba stating our time of arrival. No one was at the port to greet us, and there is no groom coming now to take our horses."

Naruto watched Sasuke continue to look around in frowning disapproval, before kicking his own horse toward the stables. He wasn't about to wait around in freezing weather when he could damn well put the animal in the building himself. After a moment, he heard Sasuke following him.

-oOo-

Hinata and Kurenai glanced up from their needlepoint at hearing voices enter the house.

"It's not that I'm opposed to stabling my own horse, Naruto, but the stable itself wasn't clean. And see here, we've actually walked into the house and there is no butler, no footman to take our coats. At the very least, Itachi should have appointed one of the men he hired to do the job… My God, the walls are bare! _Naruto!_"

Shibi, who'd been standing in the sitting room with the women, reached the foyer first, but Hinata was right behind him. She stopped at seeing Naruto and Sasuke, both of whom were looking around. Sasuke had a hand to his mouth, eyes wide in horror, while Naruto seemed unconcerned with what he was seeing until he spotted them.

Shibi went to Naruto, where Hinata could just make out Shino's name being mentioned, but she went to Sasuke and gave a small bow. "_Ohayo-"_

"Where's my brother? Itachi!" Sasuke called out.

"_Apologies, Sasuke-san. Itachi-san has left with Neji."_

Sasuke stopped staring at what was left of his home to focus on her. He switched to Japanese. _"Left to where? Where is Madara?"_

By the time the tale was told, Sasuke and Naruto had been escorted to the sitting room by a Chinese youth (causing Sasuke to shudder in shame), and tea had been served. Sasuke sat in silence, mouth grim. Naruto stared out the window at the heavily falling snow, while Shibi, Gai, Shikaku, and Inoichi sat around and watched the new arrivals. The women, Hinata made sure, were not present.

"_I see." _Sasuke said. _"And what is happening now?"_

"_I'm sorry?"_ Hinata kept her eyes on the floor, gently fluttering one fan before her face. _"We have only two Chinese, but they are making what repairs they can, while the others-"_

"_I mean no dishonor by interrupting you, Hinata-san. My family is in your debt for the services you have rendered us, but I must know what happens now? My brother has gone off alone to retrieve some mysterious legacy, gone to confront Madara, with only Neji to aid him. Do we have any word from him? From either of them? Have they reached this Clinton or Plattsburg?"_

"_That is unknown at this time, Sasuke-san. Moegi only just arrived a few days before with a note from my cousin saying they could not wait. We, myself and my women, tried to set out after them but as you can see the weather has turned quite severe."_

"_So my brother stands alone, then. With Neji."_

Hinata inclined her head. _"We will head north when the weather permits."_

Sasuke set aside his teacup and stood. _"I'm going to him now. Naruto." _

Naruto reluctantly stood, thinking how he'd only just thawed out. "_Sasuke, if Neji's with him-"_

Sasuke turned to face him, and Naruto was reminded of when last he was in New York. When he'd gone to see Sasuke at the Christmas gala. Sasuke had listened to his apologies with much the same expression on his face. With this same look of cold and quiet resolve. _Silent fury, _Naruto thought. _That's what he looks like._

"_I am going after my brother. Madara has tried to kill him. To kill all of us. Look at this place, my home. My mother is _dead_, Naruto. If you think for one moment I will let Itachi face this without me, you'd best stay here. I'll not tolerate any hindrance. I go to meet him, and nothing you stay will stop me."_

Hinata, witnessing a side to Sasuke she'd never seen on the ship, stood as well. _"I and my women will accompany you."_

Unwilling to argue, Sasuke gave a curt nod and strode from the room.

There was some heated discussion among the men, who wanted to accompany Naruto. Naruto commanded nowhere but on his ship and said as much; he couldn't order them to stay behind, nor request that they come, seeing as he hadn't been the one to hire them. At this, the men turned to Hinata, since it was Neji who'd brought them, but she said quite politely that Sasuke should decide their fate since it was his brother who'd had them brought. All eyes turned to Sasuke.

Sasuke, chafing to be off, could only see a large party as a delay. He spoke as he donned his greatcoat and scarf. "_Your loyalty is noted, gentlemen, but I must disappoint you. Mind my brother's assets here, as he wanted you to. Guard the house. Hinata, you may bring only one woman._" And with that, he opened the door and leaned into the wind, heading for the stables.

Naruto stared after him a moment, before turning to Hinata and the men. _"One wonders how he's managed to survive this long. Sasuke obviously means to live off the snow. I, however, do not. Please have provisions packed, and heavy clothing brought. Enough for a week. Blankets. And whiskey, if there's any. Brandy if there's not."_

* * *

><p><em>It is no real hardship to submit<em>, Itachi decided. It was his first thought upon waking. Having thought it, he let his eyes wander about the room as his mind slowly sifted through recent events.

He lay spent, as Neji snored softly at his side. Their window was a sheet of ice. Noise was constant, with the hotel accommodating four times its posted limit, but their room was quiet. A sanctuary. No, not a sanctuary, Itachi amended. Something else. The lair of some sensual beast, with Neji the predator who preyed upon him. A den. _A den of iniquity. _Itachi chortled in a series of soft, soundless exhalations. Their room was certainly that, but a cozy den just the same. He stretched his sore limbs a moment, stifling an unmanly squeal of repletion. No, submission was no great hardship at all.

He rolled to his side, so that he could contemplate Neji's features. It was rare for him to have the opportunity to gaze unobserved at him. Usually they both slept off the fatigue of their lovemaking, but sometimes, like now, the chance presented itself. These were the only times he could just look at him, and feel the effect the man's beauty had on him. Something about Neji's looks had always spoken to him, from the moment he'd seen him mucking out the stables that first time. His masculinity, those direct eyes, the hair that somehow emphasized rather than detracted from his blatant virility. _He's enough to make a sodomite of any sane man. _A fact that at once comforted and rankled with him. On the one hand, he thought, his attraction to Neji could thus be forgiven. On the other, it did not sit well with him that mere beauty had the power to make him forsake his beliefs in sexuality. Yet whenever he tried to come up with a specific reason for why he loved Neji as strongly as he did, this was the reason that surfaced, followed by a confusion of other, equally reprehensible ones: Neji's independent nature; the way he challenged Itachi; how elusive Neji's emotions seemed to be.

This last reason stung more than his possible shallowness. Neji had left on more than one occasion, and it seemed to him that each time he did, his own need of the man rose in proportion. True, they seemed to be past those issues now, but who was to say that Neji might not run again at some point?

Moving carefully, he reached out a fingertip and stroked the straight plane of Neji's nose. _You cannot leave. I want you too much. _He pulled his hand back at once. It wasn't like him to let the things he felt for Neji rise to the forefront of his mind so clearly. Not since Neji's admission that no promises could be made between them. Nevermind the connection they'd shared after he'd pleasured himself; they'd both run from that, each in their own way. And he'd agreed to that edict of no promises. That there could be no claims, no commitment. But thinking it hurt. That, too, was seldom admitted. That there might come a day when he'd see the back of Neji for good.

A frown creased his brow. _How does he live? _This was something else that came to him in his lucid moments. How did Neji go through life as he did, engaging in sexual pursuits, without losing his heart? Itachi, along with the rest of society, lived by the knowledge that if ever anyone became of interest, that person was to be courted and wed, provided that the individual was suitable. Commitments had been declared over a _glance_ between amenable parties, nevermind the things he and Neji had done. A kiss meant certain marriage. To hear of the way Neji apparently breezed through life, sampling pleasure with whomever caught his fancy was…he searched for a word.

Distasteful.

Itachi wrinkled his nose a moment. Neji freely admitted that he associated with whores. It only occurred to him now that Neji himself was a whore. _But no, he doesn't take payment…dear God, I hope he does not. _But he wasn't far short of one with his practices. _And what does that make me? I know he won't stay with me, and yet I lie with him as if I were one of his whores. And the way I feel-_

No. He firmly shut the door on that thought.

But it came anyway. The shameful thought that he would offer Neji any sum to keep him from leaving. _I would sooner open my veins than debase myself like that. _No, he could retain control of his emotions. It was a comfort that Neji had essentially said he found him irresistible. _And I can submit. To all the things you do to me in this room. _

A smile managed to smooth away his frown. Just remembering the things they'd been doing for the past week made his heart seize up. All the ways Neji had used him. There was a certain dark glory in giving himself up to Neji's command, he'd found. He, who'd never submitted to anyone but his father, found the experience of being dominated a thoroughly intoxicating one, aside from the reasons why he submitted. And truthfully, some of the ways Neji commanded him hardly seemed like submission.

-oOo-

Neji murmured in his sleep. "I must have dozed for a moment." He yawned. Beneath the cover of their quilt, his hand went unerringly to the juncture of Itachi's thighs.

Itachi could feel his inner thoughts, the feelings he lived with, automatically retreating once again now that Neji was awake. "A few hours you mean." Neji's hand was hot, closing around his length with a firm grip.

"So long?" Another yawn. The hand squeezed experimentally as those grey eyes gauged its effect. "I find I'm hungry. Feed me."

Itachi had to clench his jaw tight as that hand squeezed. Such unmerciful seduction so soon after waking. Neji was insatiable. "I beg your pardon?"

Another undulating manipulation of his cock. He could scarcely breathe. It seemed his body never truly retreated from the pleasure it experienced day after day. The lightest touch sent it out of his control.

Neji leaned up and over to give him a slow, searching kiss. "I said feed me."

"I'm hardly your servant," Itachi panted once he could break away.

Neji hunted his mouth, landing kisses on his jaw, his chin, and his eyes as Itachi fitfully turned his head this way and that. "What happened to submitting to my appetites?"

"I thought I was… Neji, _stop_."

He did. The glint in his eyes when he leaned up on a forearm promised…things. "Stop?"

"I only meant-"

"You agreed to allow me my head."

A spark of indignation, possibly goaded by his recent thoughts, made Itachi's voice sharper than it had been in days. "And I have held up my end of the agreement."

"So you have. But I've decided I don't like that word, not now we've come so far. You do not tell me to stop when we are in this room." To soften the command he trailed a thumb over Itachi's tight lips. "Understood?" Seeing those black eyes harden further, Neji curbed his own budding annoyance and switched tactics.

Itachi felt some of his ire recede at the way Neji bent to his neck. No matter how many times it was demonstrated to him, he could not get over the sheer tenderness the man was capable of. Feeling that mouth nuzzle at his throat, and the way it pressed moist, soft-lipped kisses along his collarbone, he wondered how _any_ man could show such sensitivity. The wordless murmurs meant to soothe his ruffled feathers… the open-handed caresses, feathery and light…the way Neji kissed him so deeply now… it all confused him to no end. The man was brutish in the strength of his desire, but could be so overwhelmingly _gentle_ when the occasion called for it. He felt his limbs all loosen and relax.

"That's better," Neji whispered. He left his lips against Itachi's. "I think I misspoke earlier by telling you to feed me. What I meant was for you to sit on my face."

Itachi tilted his head, breaking the contact of their mouths in order to see Neji's face. Perhaps his expression would lend understanding to his request. "Do _what_?"

"Sit-"

"Heavens…why?"

"That will become evident once you've done it." Neji's wolfish grin, never more evident than when he'd confounded Itachi, flashed in the weak light filtering into their room. "I think you'll enjoy it."

He couldn't hold in his mutter when Neji lunged up and whisked away their blanket. The room was still toasty, but cool compared to how warm he'd been. Shivering, he bit down on his embarrassment to follow Neji's instructions. Neji lay flat on his back while he dubiously faced his feet and straddled his chest.

"Move backward," Neji said. "More. A little more. Yes, that's it," he hissed, his voice beginning to show excitement. "Just like that. No, don't move. Sit. _Sit_, I said…lower yourself to me."

"This cannot possibly be correct."

Neji's hands grasped his hips firmly and pulled. Itachi was glad his face couldn't be seen. He didn't think he'd ever been so mortified in his life. Closing his eyes in acute shame, he felt his entrance settle on Neji's face, felt the warm and firm ridge of Neji's nose bury itself between his cheeks….and then wet heat engulfed the quivering ring of muscles there and sucked. His eyes flew open just as his mouth did, and a long moan escaped him.

A group of people passing their door, no doubt on their way down to lunch, suddenly paused in their good-natured talking. They stood still right outside the door, clearly listening.

Itachi gasped himself to silence, eyes tightly shut at the way Neji refused to stop what he was doing. He even increased the suction, causing Itachi to tremble and strain against the hands Neji had on his hips. Quivering, Itachi nevertheless remained silent until the patrons resumed speaking and continued down to the common room.

As if to punctuate their leaving, Neji gave a long, drawn-out slurp behind him. Itachi stiffened his arms, his head dropping forward as his teeth sank into his lip. Neji had sucked him here before, but not like this. This was different. It seemed the man was bent on wringing a sound from him, so fiercely did his mouth pull on him…and still he bit his lip, bit until he tasted blood. Beneath him, Neji let out a grunting hum that seemed to reach into his body and twist inside his belly; Itachi sent one fist crashing down on Neji's unprotected stomach, somehow unsurprised to feel as if his hand had met with granite. Teeth grazed him and he hit again. The teeth bit, and Itachi cried out at last. One short, ragged howl as he threw his head back. Just as quickly he was falling forward again, to catch himself on his hands where they pressed to Neji's stomach. He curled his fingers into the flesh, digging his nails in as the sucking resumed.

There was no way for him to get free, to rise off Neji's face. Neji's powerful arms curved over his thighs, holding him down every time he jerked or twisted. Forced to keep his hole pressed to that relentless mouth, there was nothing he could do but give in to it. His stiff posture softened somewhat. And now that he'd stopped fighting, the pleasure found its way into every pore of him. He was rock hard and leaking on Neji's chest, leaking so much that the fluid pooled in the shallow depression of Neji's chest muscles.

His own broken panting, the faint sounds of Neji's mouth…he was pulled into that dark world of passion again, forgetting his shame enough to experiment with moving his hips. At length, when Neji slurped again and left him shuddering, he tried a modified rocking motion, mindful that it was Neji's face he was sitting on and not his hips. Neji showed his approval with a grunt that had him bowing, but he was pressed to his mouth again in the next moment. He held there, pressing down until Neji pushed at his hips.

On and on it went, with him riding shallowly, and Neji by turns pulling him tighter, or pushing him away, until he pushed him forward completely, got to his knees behind him, and sheathed himself to the hilt in a single hard thrust. Itachi grunted at both the depth and the feel of Neji closing one hand in his hair. That was all the protest he offered; so much time spent on his ass had him hungry for that thick intrusion, for the way he was filled completely. "Yes," he rasped.

It was all the encouragement Neji needed.

He'd come to relish the forceful quality of Neji's lovemaking. Something about the strength of his thrusts, about the way he would pound and ram himself into his body as if trying to meld them together, would ease his disquiet over the uncertain quality of their relationship. Those hammering thrusts spoke louder than words. Spoke the words they could see in each other's eyes during their more intense moments, but which neither of them dared say. All they had was this, with Neji at last emptying himself in a rush, and him receiving it in silence.

-oOo-

After, they were still. Neji held him. Itachi waited only until his breathing had evened out before gently prying himself from Neji's arms and wrapping the sheet around his waist.

The proprietor was waging a silent war against them: he'd ordered the maids not to clean their room, bring water, or tend their brazier. Neji saw to these things for them now. Earlier, he'd collected snow in their ceramic basin, allowed it to melt, and then set a red-hot stone he'd buried in the coals of their brazier in the water. Itachi went to the basin now, and cupped his hands in the still-warm water.

A cracked mirror sat above the basin, on the wall. After washing the worst of the sweat from his face, Itachi consulted his reflection. He could see Neji in the bed behind him, watching him. Their eyes met and held for a moment. He could see it, so help him. The challenge in those grey eyes, daring him to say something against what had just taken place. Neji had never commanded him with such superiority before, and he wasn't sure he liked it. No, he _didn't_ like it. His earlier thoughts came back to him, about how willing he was to submit, how uncertain he was of their situation. _I'm the whore. I let him command me for fear of displeasing him._

He looked away from Neji, down at where his hands gripped the chest of drawers the basin sat on.

"Come back to bed," Neji murmured, misreading the lowered glance. "You can sit on my face the other way, while I-"

Itachi turned from the basin and dropped the sheet. "It's late. There's something I'd like to attend to in town after we've eaten lunch." He found his long underwear and pulled it on, followed by his trousers.

Neji watched the jerky movements for a few minutes. He supposed he'd been a bit rough this time around. He couldn't help it; waking to find Itachi gazing at him in that way had driven him to distraction. Besides which, the man was just so mouthwatering. The way Itachi protested before giving in, how his pleasure needed to be won each and every time they fucked, how the man was a never-ending challenge, making him work to have him submit…and submit he did, with such abandon, that he could feel himself sinking further and further under Itachi's spell.

Just as he was now. "We're still alone, Itachi. Come back to bed. Now."

Itachi turned around slowly. Buttoning his waistcoat, he looked at Neji with an expression that was part curiosity, part something else. "Why do I get the impression that the more I submit to you, the more savage you become? If the agreement between us has changed in someway, do be kind enough to apprise me of it."

The lazy smile curling Neji's lips was wiped off. He sat up. "The agreement was for you to submit to me whenever we are alone."

"You and I must have different interpretations of the word submit. For me, it means I let you mount me. For you, it seems to mean that I am your property, here for you to order about and degrade in whatever manner you see fit. _That_ I never agreed to." Finished dressing, he smoothed his hands down the front of his clothing.

"Degrade? So we're back to that?"

"Have you not progressed to telling me what I can and cannot say, now?"

Neji had forgotten. "Perhaps that was a bit-"

"In fact, the way you speak to me leaves much to be desired. You were not this way a few days ago. Am I not …meeting with your approval?"

"You are."

"Then explain to me why you are turning into such a consummate bastard."

Neji held the black stare, feeling his blood begin a slow boil. "I don't know."

"I see. So I anger you when I refuse to submit, and I anger you when I do submit. Why suggest the agreement at all, then, if you could not abide by it?"

Without waiting for an answer, Itachi left the room. Neji sat where he was for some minutes, neatly avoiding the admissions that tried to overrule mind. Anger came to his defense. He was off the bed and dressed in record time. Yanking their door open, he followed Itachi with a curse.

* * *

><p>They were curtly informed by the proprietor that lunch was over. Seeing as the other patrons were at that moment dining, Neji stepped forward. The proprietor's sons materialized from nowhere, it seemed, to stand at their father's back. All three youths were considerably taller than the portly man, one even able to look down on Neji's height. To a lad, they were broad-shouldered and strong-looking.<p>

"Now, then," The proprietor whispered. People were beginning to stare. "You laid hands on me once. I'm willing to bet my sons here can put a stop to you doing it again. I done asked you civil like. Now I'm not asking. Gimme that room, and no one needs to get hurt."

In the face of this audacity, Itachi's ire left him. Recalling the way Neji handled Madara's men, he calmly waited for a similar demonstration to take place. He was therefore surprised and dismayed to hear Neji say, "Fine. What's your price?"

The proprietor named a sum that Itachi didn't think large, but which caused Neji to swear softly.

"That's not four times what I'm paying," Neji bit out.

"You're right. It ain't. Now the rate's five times as much. And that's only the room. Food is extra. So's water and coal."

"You low-life _swine_," Neji said. Itachi had to nod his head in agreement.

The proprietor turned and told his sons to empty the room of their belongings. Neji caught the biggest boy by the forearm as he was passing to do this, pulled him close, and put his other arm around the back of his neck in what appeared to be an embrace. The crack of snapping bone had the proprietor shouting in rage, while the other boys rushed forward. Neji forestalled them all by hissing, "A move, and I will break his other arm. Stand back. Good. Now that I have your attention, listen well. I will pay your price, but you will feed my employer and me the best this shithole has to offer. Water and coal included. And lest you think to call the authorities," Neji added in a near whisper, "I can have you, your sow of a wife, and these piggish boys of yours all singing your death rattles, in your beds, before anyone would be able to stop me. Come to think on it, I can do it here and now." He did something that had the big boy in his arms moaning in agony.

The proprietor blanched, motioning for his sons to move back. "There's no need for this, now…jus' let my boy go."

Neji clenched his hand, grating the bones of the boy's forearm together. The big youth screech between his clenched teeth. Neji shoved him at his father, who was nearly toppled by his weight. The boy was blubbering like a baby. "You'll have your money when I see food."

The patrons who'd stopped eating to watch didn't really understand what they'd seen, and so turned back to their plates when nothing interesting happened. Neji waited until the proprietor had ushered his boys to the back of the inn before turning to Itachi.

"Was that necessary?" Itachi asked quietly, unsure of Neji's motives.

"There isn't so much as a fox hole to rent in this town. Every flophouse or similar establishment is packed full. And there is nothing outside this miserable town but open land, so yes. It was necessary. He will get his money, but I won't be treated like shit while being made to pay through the nose. That swine can suck my cock."

Itachi blinked. It was a moment before he understood the comment to be a derogatory one. A moment more before it came to him that sucking cock was a contemptible action. Once or twice in his life he'd heard the term cocksucker, usually while in town and passing some poor neighborhood. He'd understood the term as a reference to a man of questionable appetites. A man like Neji. It had never occurred to him that the act of being on one's knees, that servicing someone in that manner, was the greater offense. To be reduced to a means for pleasure, a receptacle for some man's release…it was an insult, he realized. He noted it, and the fact that there was some tenebrous meaning there, some insight into his own submission, and Neji's refusal to submit, that he didn't care to examine just then.

While Neji went up to their room, presumably to get money for the proprietor, he shrugged into his coat and left the inn.

* * *

><p>"Would you believe this town has a cinema?" Neji said later, when they'd been served lunch. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard one of the stable boys mentioning it. Incidentally, while I was checking on them, a man offered to buy Tsukiyomi for one hundred dollars."<p>

Itachi ate in silence. Neji's painful attempts to ease things between them afforded him some amusement, but on the whole, he was not obligated to be anything but himself when outside the room. And right now he was rather displeased, and chose to show it. It was a relief to settle into his familiar way of behaving.

"We could go, if you like." When Itachi only continued to study his plate, Neji sat back and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all."

"You seem quieter than usual." Neji cast a discreet glance around before lowering his voice. "Was our discussion in the room…too much? Did I hurt you?"

_Remarkable_, Itachi thought. _He has no concept of being wrong. _"You didn't, no." He paused to transfer a bite of ham to his mouth. "My horse isn't for sale."

"That sum's nearly twice what any other horse costs."

"And less than half what my father paid for him. I don't care what is offered, my horse remains with me. Is our situation that dire?" He glanced up while reaching for his napkin.

Neji considered the hooded gaze. "At these increased rates, it won't be long before it is. There's still the remainder of our trip north to consider, and there's no telling how long we'll be forced to remain here." He waited only a moment. "I apologize if our discussion earlier became more heated than I intended. If I was… more brusque than usual."

Itachi ignored that. "We could be here weeks, you mean. In that case I will consider it. I can always buy him back when I restore my fortune. But remaining here much longer is impossible. I estimate we've only ten days left until April. Madara may well be suffering the same delays, but if that person leaves to Heaven knows where with the legacy, then there's no telling when or if I'll ever be able to retrieve it. That cannot be allowed to happen."

No more was said for a time. Neji studied him. He'd noticed that the more forceful he was in private, the more unaffected Itachi seemed to behave when they were in public. His endearing eagerness when outside the room, inexpertly masked with indifference, seemed to have vanished. He'd be hard pressed now to tell if Itachi even thought of their private activities when not in the room. Itachi no longer seemed to squirm in anticipation, or become restless if they stayed out of the room too long.

Ah, but _in_ the room…

He could now see why Naruto had spent days at a time locked in his cabin with Sasuke. It was a dream unheard of in their present day and age for a man of his appetites to have large amounts of uninterrupted time with another man. The sheer extravagance of it was enough to shiver the balls with pleasure. He couldn't get enough. His appetite grew by the hour, by the minute it seemed, so that the more Itachi grew indifferent when outside the room, the more he himself all but slavered to be in his ass again.

And that wasn't all. He'd been only too happy to capitalize on Itachi's submission during the first day or so of their confinement, but had he known just how much intimacy with Itachi would fuck with his own equilibrium he might have reconsidered. The man yielded everything but the words he wanted. He needed those words. Only then would he know beyond a doubt that Itachi was his. And though he knew the words lurked somewhere in the man, much as they lurked in him, as long as they went unsaid he felt as if he had no control. He thought he did, seeing how eager Itachi was to submit, but the more he submitted, the more he himself fell under the man's spell. And that was unacceptable. He could see what it was doing to him, the way it made him more forceful when they were alone, more talkative when they weren't. Trying to draw Itachi in, pull him under and hold him there, where he'd be unable to escape. _If I have him, then it needs to be complete. He has to be completely mine, nothing else will do._

That thought was enough to have him lowering his eyes to his coffee. He did have him. He had what he wanted from him, didn't he? No, he thought. He had what he'd _said_ he'd wanted, not what he actually wanted. And after everything they'd been through he knew he could never say what he really wanted. Which was every part of Itachi, heart, mind, and soul. He wanted to own him to his bones, to know there could be no question of anyone but him in the man's life.

_Then give in first._

Neji grimaced. Naruto's voice in his head was like a match to a keg, making a wealth of emotions flare up before he could tamp them back down into obscurity. Guilt. Shame. Self-loathing. And then a wave of anger that swept his mind clean, much as it had upstairs. _I'll give in when Hell freezes_, he thought furiously.

At any rate, Naruto's voice brought him to the incident in their room. Once again, Itachi was right. The more he submitted, the more brutish Neji saw himself becoming in his need to have the man. In his defense, he felt that Itachi's submission without the all-important words were as good as waving a red cape before a bull. What was he _supposed_ to do, if not crave him even more?

_You _are_ mad, _that voice spat.

Possibly. Certainly the situation itself was madness. The sheer, all-encompassing need he felt to have Itachi was unlike anything he'd ever experienced around anyone. Ever. Gone was the control the damned arrangement had afforded him, if he'd ever had any to begin with. His need only grew the more he fucked Itachi, instead of being slaked. In fact, nothing about his attraction to Itachi had ever followed any behavior he normally displayed around men. He tried, but could not think of another time in his life where the idea of willing servitude would have appealed to him. He'd have slit his own throat first, rather than bend and scrape for some lord. And yet he'd done it. Happily. For a year. And for _what_? Was he so enthralled with Itachi that he'd forgotten himself to such a degree?

The look on Naruto's face when he'd told him he was staying in New York suddenly came back to him. What had Naruto said? That he'd never seen him loyal to anyone besides himself, his dad, and Naruto. And yet, here he was haring up the countryside in a snowstorm, risking his neck to see that Itachi was protected. Risking his life for a man he couldn't get enough of, and couldn't get out of his mind. He couldn't even behave with any kind of consistency around Itachi; his feelings were leading him by the nose. And that was intolerable, he decided.

Staring at where Itachi was neatly polishing off his lunch, Neji's lips thinned.

* * *

><p>In the room again, despite the welcome warmth of a well-tended brazier, the atmosphere was quite as chilly as the air outside. Itachi seemed to wait stiffly, as if for an attack. The way he watched Neji from the corner of his eye lent further credence to this theory. Neji, incensed to the point of silence, took perverse pleasure in willfully ignoring the dictates of their agreement. In fact, he said as much while removing his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack.<p>

Itachi blinked several times before finding his voice. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said our arrangement is at an end."

"And why is that?" Itachi's face and tone showed strained civility.

"Because I find it no longer suits me," Neji snapped. "Nor does it seem to suit you any longer."

"I see. May I ask why I could not be the judge of that myself?"

"What?" Neji stalked to his bed and flopped to a sitting position. He raised one knee and rested an arm on it. "Judge what."

"Whether or not I still found our arrangement agreeable." When Neji refused to answer, he went and sat primly on his own bed. "What does this mean, then. That you will try and paw me in public?"

Neji's lip curled, but not with amusement. "It means I'll be keeping my hands to myself."

It was a long moment before Itachi felt he could reply. Neji's words set off a storm or anger and indignation in him so that he could scarcely think. There was no small amount of hurt as well, and this clouded his thoughts further. He clasped his hands between his knees, concentrating on controlling his breathing, while he considered the words –and where they could be coming from- carefully. "I suppose," he said slowly when he could speak, "that I'm no longer rubbing you the right way. You did say that we might drive each other away…is that what's happened?"

Neji adopted a stony silence, as he studied the fingernails of one hand.

Itachi slowly inhaled through his nose, held his breath for a count of ten, then let it out again just as slowly. "You fucking _child_."

Whispered as this was, the words still snapped Neji's head around, so that his surprised gaze met Itachi's hooded one. He never heard that kind of language from Itachi. "How _dare_-"

"You _are_ a child," Itachi pressed.

Outwardly, he appeared calm, but the very smoothness of his tone spoke of some great disturbance in his famously controlled personality. Neji wondered if this was the demeanor that presaged one of Itachi's rages. The thought alone had him sitting up straighter, giving Itachi his undivided attention.

"Each and every time something doesn't go your way you pull back," Itachi murmured. "You run. You treat me worse than dirt in the process, and I, for one, am heartily sick of it. No more. No more, Neji. I am through letting you dictate this thing between us, as if your opinion alone is what matters. Perhaps it doesn't occur to you that I have a concern in this. That I have…feelings. No doubt because I lack the experience you have, but whatever the case, you no longer get to arbitrarily decide when we touch." He paused here to draw in another long, slow breath. "I must say. You are a bastard without equal, but I know how to deal with bastards." He stood, turned his back, and began removing his jacket.

Riveted by the dressing down he'd just received, something made Neji say, "So you would force yourself on me despite me not wanting you anymore?"

The jacket was half off. Itachi paused in the act of removing it to speak without turning. "Is that the case?"

"…No."

The jacket was hung beside Neji's. "Then tell me what _is_ the problem," Itachi said as he turned. He took a few steps in Neji's direction. "Perhaps an understanding can be reached." He stopped when he was directly in front of the younger man.

Neji looked up at him for a long, long time. The silence stretched out between them, but inside he could feel his mind's mutters of protest. The resistance to the pull Itachi exerted on him, the urge to run. In his gut, where he lived and breathed, he knew –knew- that if he ever gave in to that pull he'd be lost. And yet he _could_ _not_ walk away. He was already caught. Caught and fighting it and being torn to shreds, much as a fish that fights the hook damages itself.

"I'm afraid to love you."

Neji frowned. But then, seeing Itachi's slack face, he realized the words had come from _his_ mouth, not Itachi's, and that he was on the verge of admitting more. He shut his mouth with a snap.

Itachi went to him, pushed his leg down, and boldly sat in his lap, straddling his thighs. It wasn't a position Neji had ever seen Itachi initiate. For a moment he was diverted, but then Itachi put his arms on his shoulders, and clasped his hands behind Neji's neck. "So am I," Itachi said quietly. His eyes were dark pools. This close, Neji couldn't look away. He found himself drowning in them.

It seemed like forever that they stared into each other. A tremor passed through them both, as other words hovered on the verge of being spoken. But then Neji sat up properly, bending Itachi backward as he kissed him hard.

-oOo-

When Itachi woke it was evening. He was still sprawled on Neji's bed, but Neji himself was gone.

He felt no inclination to rise. The snow was falling heavily again, piling on the windowpane, but the room was toasty. Burrowing deeper beneath the quilt, he studied the faint glow of coals in the brazier in the otherwise dark room.

They hadn't done more than kiss that once. After, Neji had lain with him under this very same blanket, with an unreadable expression on his face. For his part, Itachi rather felt unbalanced himself. Neji's admission had seemed like the key that would unlock all the things that went unsaid between them…but then Neji had retreated once more, this time remaining behind whatever walls he lived with until they'd fallen asleep.

It was a start, he decided. The other words would follow, he was sure of it, but it would take courage from both of them. If he only knew for sure that he wouldn't be opening himself to rejection, he would say the words now. He wasn't blameless, he knew. Their arrangement had soured gradually. He could recognize how thoroughly he submitted in bed in his mindless effort to bind Neji to him, just as he could recognize that a part of him detested the submission. That same part of him was what made him behave with ever-increasing detachment when not in the bedroom. He was slowly coming to believe, despite Neji's bald admission, that the man was unobtainable. Period. He would never have the commitment he wanted from him. This knowledge was what drove him to both extremes, both inside and out of the room, he realized.

_Perhaps it is best if we do stop touching. _

To his horror, he could recognize the wisdom in this. Neither of them would ever give in completely. And as far as he himself was concerned, any continuation down the path he was currently on with Neji would lead to certain heartbreak. He was sure of it.

That stilled his thoughts for a moment. The notion of heartbreak in men was not a common one. Generally, such a thing was only acceptable if a man's wife had died. Then it was considered fine and romantic to see him slowly pine away with grief. Stories were written of such, and it was always written as a refined and civilized process.

Itachi snorted. If ever those authors had experienced heartbreak themselves, they'd have known it was an ugly, messy, and utterly _un_refined occurrence.

Another thought came to him: that admissions such as he wanted from Neji were not easy for men to say. Women yes, but men never. Not to _any_ sex. The frown he'd been wearing smoothed out with this realization, and he breathed easier. With the thought came the realization that he was therefore under no pressure to say anything himself. He still wanted something from Neji, some sign that they could continue indefinitely together, but perhaps he'd been asking for too much. No wonder Neji ran so consistently. But then _how_ was he asking for too much? He did what Neji wanted, submitted in the room, and adhered to their arrangement out of it. And, as he'd pointed out only hours ago, it _was_ Neji directing things. Try as he might, Itachi could see no fault in himself. Once again, Neji was the one to blame. The man always wanted things he himself was unable to give. _And yet somehow I always end up giving him what he wants. _No more. His resolve from earlier returned, and he got up to have a final discussion with Neji, wherever he may be. It was high time they put this matter to rest once and for all. Either they came to a mutual decision to pursue a relationship or they went their separate ways, but this constant pull and push between them ended now.

* * *

><p>The common room was packed. The fire roaring in the fireplace was hardly needed, given the amount of heat so many bodies generated. It was some minutes before he located Neji, who was standing in a corner with his arms folded. The way he simply stood there, frowning at the fire, gave Itachi pause. He'd been in the process of working his way toward him, but now he stopped. Consequently, he saw when one of the proprietor's large sons squeezed up next to Neji and bent to whisper in his ear.<p>

Whatever was said caused Neji to look out across the room. Following his gaze, Itachi saw a man standing by the entrance. The man was tall and spare, his broad-brimmed hat dusted with snow. This was removed even as Itachi watched, to reveal a head of thick dark hair, expertly waved from a seamless brow. A young man. Electric green eyes whose color was visible even at this distance. Beyond good-looking. His eyes went back to Neji, who seemed to be appraising the green-eyed man with quite as much scrutiny. Neji's eyes moved up and down the man's body, and a slow, close-lipped smile spread across his face. Something in that smile made Itachi look to the stranger again, but the man was donning his hat and turning to leave. And when he moved to go to Neji, it was to find him following the man.

Itachi found himself rudely threading his way through the crush of people in time to catch the door before it swung shut. The snow obscured much, but he could just make out Neji and the stranger stopped at the end of the block, huddled close together. Heedless of his coatless state, Itachi crept closer, trusting the thickly falling snow to mask his approach.

"-understand you made a certain request," the man was saying. His voice was like velvet. Lightly accented. The way he rolled certain letters suggested exotic origins.

"So long as you can provide me with what I want," Neji answered, just as low.

"I can…if I can be sure this will remain private."

"Trust me, I have long years of experience in keeping my activities hidden. Besides, the man I'm with would shit bricks if he found out. Where do you want to do this?"

"There's a back room where I'm staying…"

"Lead the way. I'm looking forward to divesting you of that fine coat."

The man chuckled richly, and they began moving toward the opposite side of the street.

Itachi watched as the billowing snow swallowed them both, before turning and heading back to the hotel.

-oOo-

How long he sat in the room, mind blank, he didn't know, but the first clear thought he had was unspeakable in its simplicity: Neji was at that moment fucking someone else. There was more behind that thought. Such as the fact that he'd been, for all intents and purposes, jilted. Cast aside in favor of another. And all because Neji's twice-damned cowardice would not allow him to be anything other than the low-life arse that he was. He, Itachi, meant nothing to him. What they shared meant nothing. Neji's confession of being afraid, now…that was everything. Neji wanted sex, nothing more. Certainly nothing lasting. The very notion sent him running for the hills, which meant, plain and simple, that he, Itachi, was being used.

Simple. And horrendous. _And over._

An image of how he must have looked in the common room, hurrying to follow Neji and the stranger, came to him. He, Itachi, being so blinded by feelings that weren't returned that he'd forgotten himself entirely. Reduced to the actions of a lovesick girl.

Where it rested against his lips, his fist tightened until the knuckles were white.

Earlier, when he'd been speaking to Neji, his rage had ghosted to the surface, but he'd been able to maintain control of himself. Now, though, it swept over him where he sat, and a sense of _déjà vu_ accompanied it. He'd been down this same road in the flophouse. Neji had turned out not to be sleeping with anyone that time, but _this_ time he had proof. And this time, there would be no control.

In full awareness of what would happen when Neji returned, Itachi proceeded to fold his trembling hands across his mid-section and bide his time. Images of what Neji was doing with that green-eyed whoreson, and the pain this caused him, allowed him such heights of rage that he was able to be still. To wait.

He settled into the armchair, crossed his legs, and fixed his eyes to the door.

* * *

><p>Filiberto was too cocky by far, Neji found. He didn't even have to cheat, which he'd been fully prepared to do.<p>

The smoky room of gamblers he was led to, all men wearing clothes quite as rich as Filiberto's, fairly reeked of money. The indolent rich, Neji noted. A different breed from the Uchiha, who actually worked for their money. No, this was the smell of old money. Just how Filiberto fit into it, with his clearly Spanish roots, was undetermined, but Neji couldn't care less. He needed money. These men had it.

They accepted him with a glance from Filiberto, and a nod from him, then gestured to the empty places at their table. Filiberto took the seat beside him…whereupon the green-eyed man's thigh immediately pressed along the entire length of his. _Just as I thought. _He wasn't interested.

The stakes were high. As promised, he produced a note with Tsukiyomi's details on it. This was handed around, looked over, then placed in the middle with the other bets. No talking. The game was afoot.

It was easy pickings. It helped that the sums of money the men lost to Neji, while exorbitant to him, were negligible to them. Five thousand dollars in just over three hours, though…it made his head spin. Especially when the fattest one of the bunch offered him the same amount again for Tsukiyomi anyway. The lure of ten large was nearly irresistible, but he had what he came for. Enough money to stay at the hotel should it snow till June, with plenty left over for whatever the journey north would require.

-oOo-

Outside the taproom, in the alley behind the back room, Filiberto watched as Neji did indeed don his coat. The garment was extravagant, black tweed and lined with rabbit fur. It had been tailored for his lanky frame, but fit his grey-eyed companion well. "It suits you," he said. The long, brown hair fascinated him. He stepped close, as Neji lifted it free of the collar, and hefted a thick hank of it. "I have a room upstairs…"

Neji gauged Filiberto expertly. The eyes alone named him as one who gave rather than received. He let his own silent glance answer for him, and Filiberto dropped his hand in understanding. Neji was striding back to the hotel a moment later, arm clamped firmly around his winnings where the money was stuffed in a leather pouch and tucked beneath his coat.

* * *

><p>This late the common room wasn't quite as packed as it was before. He inquired of the proprietor whether or not his employer had eaten dinner, and was told he hadn't. Food was still plentiful in spite of the extra people dining, but he pulled out a bill and handed it to the man for the lateness of the hour. The money disappeared into the greasy front of the man's shirt. "I'll have one of m'boys bring up the trays in twenty minutes," he said diffidently.<p>

Neji turned for the stairs, well satisfied with the evening's results. The proprietor was neatly in hand, he mused, and he was flush with an unprecedented amount of cash. All his, earned his own way, and not given to him by Itachi. A sigh of contentment left him as he rounded the landing at the top of the stairs and headed down the hall. He paused a moment to smooth his new coat, ready to preen good-naturedly for Itachi, before walking into the room.

At remembering Itachi, he went still. Some things had been said between them recently that left him off-balance. It could be that Itachi would want to revisit the topic, but Neji brushed this thought aside with a straightening of his spine. He was rich. He'd enjoy that fact while it lasted. Whatever Itachi may or may not want to discuss could wait till later. Already smiling at the look on Itachi's face when he saw the money, Neji opened the door.

-oOo-

The lamp wasn't lit. By the brief illumination that penetrated the room from the hall, he saw a shape come at him. Even as he was stepping to one-side of the doorway, hands raised to defend himself, a weight slammed against the door, effectively shutting it. Something –a foot, he thought- hit him square in the side and sent him sprawling. He caught himself on a hand and lashed out viciously with his own foot.

Through the flurry of blows he blocked and delivered over the next minute or so, he quickly progressed from the belief that his room was being looted, to the realization that Itachi was attacking him. The punches were bone-jarring, deadly accurate, and delivered in absolute silence. He managed to get both hands between them, and shoved the man across the room as hard as he could. Itachi stumbled; Neji took the opportunity to lunge for the door and throw it open. With this flood of light to see by, he spun around to determine just what in hell was going on.

Undeterred, Itachi prowled, either looking for an opening or waiting for Neji to come at him. No explanation was given.

"What in the name of God are you _doing_?" Neji demanded.

In answer, Itachi grasped the floor lamp beside him, and swung it up as one would a _bou_. This was no mean feat, considering the metal lamp was considerably heavier than a _bou_, yet Itachi came at him with it, somehow managing to maneuver it in the close quarters of their room without hitting anything save Neji's raised arm. The pain was intense. Before it could rise again, he yanked it free of Itachi's grip and hurled it aside. But then he had his hands full with Itachi himself.

Fortunately, for the few minutes he and Itachi grappled in silence, no one walked by their open door. Neji rather thought the fight shouldn't even have lasted that long, considering his greater skill, but Itachi fought with such red-hot fury that he couldn't find an edge. For both their sakes, he finally backed off, hands raised, and asked, as calmly as he could, what had happened.

Itachi seemed to accept this white flag. At the very least he turned from Neji, to lean his hands on the dresser and catch his breath. Neji took the time to stagger to one of the little end tables in the room, and light a candle. He then closed the door and locked it. Still shaking somewhat, he leaned against it and studied Itachi's profile. Now that his blood was allowed to cool, the forearm he'd used to block that blow from the floor lamp throbbed. He cradled it as he waited.

He'd given it some thought while they fought. The only reasons he could come up with for Itachi suddenly losing his mind weren't reasons at all. Nothing had _happened_ between the time he'd left him and when he'd returned. Therefore, it shocked him when Itachi said quietly, "Tell me true. The only thing you want from me is the use of my body. Correct?"

Neji stood blinking in surprise, trying to make sense of where this could be coming from. "I don't know what you mean."

Now Itachi turned. Shadows were thick in the room, but there was enough light from their one candle for him to see the terrible anger on Itachi's face. Anger and other things. Things Neji suddenly sensed were very important. "And what part of that did you fail to understand?" Itachi rasped. "The part where I asked for the truth? Or the part where I asked you to define precisely what it is you want from me."

"Both." Neji wet his lips, senses on high alert. "I thought I _had_ been honest with you, particularly today?"

"You mean about your fears of loving me."

"Well…yes."

"I won't ask if you do. But I want my question answered. Do you or don't you only want sex from me?"

Put on the spot this way, Neji was at a loss how to answer. On the one hand, if he really did answer honestly, Itachi would ask further questions. Questions he simply refused to answer. On the other hand, if he couldn't answer honestly, then what was there? Really, where did they go from here if he couldn't be honest?

His silence was taken for assent.

Itachi gave a single, slow nod, as if this was what he'd expected. Even so, it hurt him. Neji could see this in the way his already forbidding expression underwent a small shift. Itachi said nothing, and that hurt Neji in turn. Beyond the pain of deliberately hurting Itachi, the fact that no protest was given left him swallowing.

Looking Neji directly in the eye, Itachi closed the distance between them with purposeful, measured steps. Stopped when he was an arm's length away. Met Neji's somber eyes for a long time. Then drew back his fist and sent it crashing to Neji's face with all the strength he could muster.

Neji didn't fight. The door kept him upright, but Itachi's other hand also held him in place. That hand was knotted around a fistful of the jacket he'd worn under the tweed coat. Itachi anchored him in place thus while his other hand made repeated contact with his face. And Neji just let it happen. He didn't know exactly what had pushed Itachi to the edge, but this…this was the manifestation of Itachi's feelings. _This _was what he felt for Neji, the strength of his love, if it was love. Maybe it was anger and injured pride at being used. Regardless, something in those punches soothed while they hurt.

He finally did raise a hand to block, but the rock-like fist wasn't there. Both of Itachi's hands were suddenly buried in his hair. His head was yanked down, and his bloody mouth was being crushed in an equally violent kiss.

Itachi seemed not to mind the blood. They remain locked that way until Neji pushed away, only for Itachi to bring him in again. Only when _he_ was done did the kiss end, and then only so he could drag a resistant Neji to the center of the room and begin undressing him in quick, sharp movements.

There was silence. Only the sound of Itachi's heaving breathing, of Neji's short hiss of pain as he wrenched his forearm in his haste to help Itachi disrobe him. And then Itachi's grunt as Neji switched to taking off his clothes instead, ripping the seam on his shirt, dragging the suspenders off, undoing his belt. They stood nude and quivering, chests heaving, eyes clashing. And then they reached for each other.

-oOo-

There were so many different ways to kiss a man. Ways that told so much. And the way Itachi kissed him now left no doubt in Neji's mind that something had changed. This should have been obvious with the fight, but this was more than anger. More than rage. There was nothing soothing now in Itachi's touch. Instead, Neji thought he detected a certain…indifference. A carelessness, as if Itachi no longer cared what he thought, but intended to take his pleasure as he saw fit. Some of the things said after the fight came back to Neji, and a knife of fear buried itself in his guts. He grabbed Itachi, holding him closer as a sudden hunger for him covered his mind. All at once he felt deprived. Starved for the way Itachi used to submit. He wanted that now, a return to how things were, and sought to overpower the man with the sheer force of his lips.

It was a battle of a different sort. Neji did win control, but it was short-lived. Itachi was there, matching him grab for grab, kiss for kiss. Challenging him, at times winning control of their heated embrace, until Neji at last tried to pin his arms down.

But Itachi pulled back. He backed away completely, and took hold of his swollen cock in one hand. As he'd so recently learned, he began massaging it. Rolling his palm over the head to gather the moisture dripping out of him. He smeared this along his shaft, where it caught the faint candlelight and glistened. Seeing this, Neji licked his lips. An overwhelming urge to have that in his mouth made him step forward, but something in Itachi's eyes held him back. It was very like contempt. As if Itachi were telling him with his eyes that he didn't need him anymore; his own hand would suffice.

He watched for a while, the movement of that hand. The way the muscle in Itachi's arm jumped in time to it. How his throat worked, and his eyes grew hooded, and his breathing deepened. Neji couldn't take it. Despite the sneer on Itachi's countenance, he closed the distance between them and buried his face in the man's neck. It was an apology. A plea for forgiveness. For any quarter whatsoever. Itachi remained as he was, standing with his legs braced apart, and his hand jerking between them.

But his head moved sideways, allowing Neji room. Offering his neck to that knowledgeable mouth. He felt those lips, soft and supple, traveling over his ear, down his neck again, over his chest. He felt Neji's hands grab his hips firmly, steadying him as kisses landed on his abdomen. Hot air fanned over the wet, sensitive head of his member, causing him to shiver. Then he shivered again as his insides rolled over, edging toward release.

He was still angry. Still hurt beyond words. Still furious. When he opened his eyes and looked down, it was to find Neji ready and waiting, panting in anticipation of his seed. But all Itachi could see was the way Neji had walked down the block with that green-eyed swine. The way they'd been huddled together, how they'd chuckled. An image of Neji fucking the man, their long limbs locked in passion, had his fury boiling over once more. To leap from one man's bed to another's…

Without warning, Itachi grabbed Neji's head in both hands and shoved his cock as far as it would go into the open, panting mouth.

For a moment they teetered, as one shoved and the other pulled. The struggle caused them to adopt a modified version of how the act was supposed to go. Somewhere in Itachi's rage and Neji's, the fight shifted to Neji pulling and Itachi shoving. Itachi thought to demean him as he'd learned could be done only this morning, but Neji had considerably more knowledge of cocksucking than Itachi did. He used this knowledge now to whisk Itachi's control away.

Itachi did try to pull back, realizing his mistake at once, but Neji sucked away all strength from him. All his will. He was left to grip Neji's hair not in anger now, but for support. The sheer ferocity of that mouth was terrifying. Far beyond anything shown between them to date. Whatever filters they used when intimate had been shredded by the blows they'd traded, by the things said tonight. By Itachi's fury, and now Neji's answering temper. It occurred to Itachi, as he came with a hiss, that he'd awakened some beast. Something that slept in Neji, that he'd never fully glimpsed, but that always seemed to be present whenever they touched.

_Good, _he thought, as Neji released him. Already his own wrath was coming back. When Neji stood, obviously intending to take charge once more, he was ready.

-oOo-

The lines had been drawn with their earlier fight, but this was it. This was all-out war. A stand had been taken, and nothing Neji did, despite his considerable skill, could budge the look of resolve in Itachi's eyes. Their lovemaking reflected this. Once or twice there were knocks on their door. Concern expressed over the thumping heard, the grunts and curses voiced. Neither of them cared or answered. They rolled on the floor, the bed, then the floor again. The battle for ultimate possession, for clear and final dominance, was bitter yet neither of them yielded. Not this time.

And still, it was the most potent encounter yet for them. Nothing they'd done before equaled this. They finally ended up on one of the beds, bleeding in heart and body, but fighting still. They fought with lips, hands, legs. Every caress was a weapon. Every kiss violent. They were wet, slicked with their sweat, their breathing harsh and labored. And still they writhed. Still they fought, until at last Neji found himself on his stomach, a steely forearm pressed to the back of his neck. The hot, thick, and utterly horrifying slide of Itachi's body into him had him stiffening. He was penetrated regardless, implacably. The shock of it robbed him of strength, thus enabling the intrusion, but even so he clenched his ass against it. Clenched it tightly. Itachi gave a mighty shove and sheathed himself completely, yanking himself in even further by the grip his other hand had on Neji's shoulder.

At some point the candle had guttered out. They lay stiffly in the dark.

Itachi began moving. His lack of experience was a blessing, considering the pain of the penetration, but Neji was rearing up long before the man could find his rhythm. A punch to Neji's ribs knocked the wind out of him, but didn't stop him. He was cursing, swinging an arm backward in retaliation even as Itachi slammed his head on the mattress by a fist in his hair. He could feel the man shifting for leverage, grim and silent in his determination…and the way the shifting inadvertently had his cock hitting Neji's gland dead on. The pleasure was almost painful. All the fight went out of him at once; his limbs sprawled, boneless and weak, beneath Itachi's renewed thrusts.

Itachi quivered with the effort. The pleasure of using Neji's ass, the sheer heat and tightness of it, left him dripping with sweat. It was a revelation. Clouded though his mind was with lust and anger, each movement was a surprise to him. The feel of Neji's ass, where it cushioned his thrusts. How Neji's back muscles felt against his chest, something he'd never experienced, oddly enough. The sight of Neji, clearly furious, yet caught in his own reluctant pleasure. And then somewhere in all this confusion he found his balance, a way to maintain it and thrust evenly. His own pleasure took a sharp turn upward, climbing to heights of heat and sizzling ferocity he didn't think he'd be able to contain. Neji's body, though still now, shuddered with the impact of his thrusts. Having climaxed already tonight, he didn't think he would be able to again so soon, but it was there, in his bowels, rumbling closer with all the force of an avalanche-

And then he was being pushed away. Shoved and grabbed and slammed onto his back, and it was him arching on a hoarse cry of "_Neji!" _His body being entered with a ruthlessness that took his breath away. He was the one being held still now, locked in Neji's arms, the skin of his neck clamped between Neji's teeth. His legs were grabbed and snatched wider apart, thrown over Neji's hips so that the penetration could be completed. He was impaled, held immobile, it seemed, by the fury of Neji's cock alone. He didn't submit, but he surrendered this moment. Only this moment. He let his arms and legs relax. Let them melt around Neji, molding to every outraged line of him, and held on through the punishing barrage of thrusts that followed.

_Never again, _he thought as one of those thrusts made him wince. _I will never be used again. Not by you, Neji. Not by Madara. Not by anyone. Never. Never!_

And he would hold to that, he decided. He held to that thought throughout the wildness of Neji's retaliation, and even through the calm that followed. They grew tired. The fight finally left, to leave them languid. They were still joined, still moving, but now the kisses were softer. The hands were gentler, the heat between them muted. It wasn't hard to hold his position, he thought; without anger to mask it, the thought of Neji touching him now left him with a mild sense of disgust.

After, when the final climax was passing with a lingering shudder to their limbs, they lay on their sides, facing each other. The sun was coming up. Neji looked at him, a small frown between his eyes. Itachi returned the look forthrightly, hiding nothing...but nothing was said.

Eventually, Neji got up and went to his own bed.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: **Garmiet's** really the only one who knows how close I've come in the past few months to giving up completely. You can thank him for this update and the last one. Somehow, he drags me back from defeat each time.

**Update:** I'm not sure how long I've been working on this chapter. I do know that the note up there was written some time this September or so. I'd quit writing twice. Once on June 1st, and then again around September. Both times he managed to prod me back to some semblance of myself. I wrote that note then.

One of the wives told me something on Facebook last night when I told her I'm pursuing my Psy.D and fan fiction won't be a part of my life forever. She wanted assurances that this fic, at the very least, would be completed. This surprised me because I know she's a diehard Teen Wolf fan. She said: "Take Me is my hard core drug like heroine because it's powerful and I don't get it often because it's expensive. Teen Wolf fanfiction is like weed cuz it's cheap and u get varying qualities and it's easily accessible and in large quantities." I won't discuss how I whooped and hollered and blessed her wonderful little analogies, but I _will_ say it galvanized me into pulling an all-nighter with her (wow…that sounds dirty), so that I could finish this chap once and for all.

So here it is. I'm updating. Been so long I hardly know how to do it anymore. Real life and NaNo has me fucked ten ways from Sunday. *shrug*

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 17<span>

There was no sleep. There could be no question of sleep. Nevertheless, Itachi remained in his bed, his back to the room, his hands tucked beneath one cheek, and hoped his stillness would be taken for sleep.

He heard the hotel wake and come to life around the silence of their room. Saw the room itself brighten with the advent of daylight. Heard one of the kitchen maids give a timid knock, asking if they wanted their brazier freshened. But there was neither sound nor movement from the bed behind him.

During the hour after Neji left his bed, the entire night came back to him. His fury still smoldered, but now it was cooled by the realization of what he'd done. The enormity of it. Of who he'd done it _to_. And just now it seemed he recalled that Neji had a temper of his own. Perhaps it wasn't as…as explosive as his was wont to be, but Itachi rather thought it would be hoping for too much that his actions would go without comment.

_I had a right to do as I did, _he thought at length. _I'm no one's plaything. High time yon swine knew it._

This thought firmed his weakening resolve. He was not Sasuke to hold his grudges into infinity, not past exacting some form of justice for slights done to him, yet he _could_ _not_ allow himself to be used any , but Neji was so belligerent when it came to his own sense of pride. Most definitely there would be hell to pay for last night. And he still wanted the man. That much became clear to him the moment Neji left his bed instead of holding him until they were asleep. That simple act of Neji turning over and getting up had been a blow to the fort he'd erected around himself during the hours Neji had been off with that whore. The wall continued to crumble as the sun rose, while he did all in his power to rebuild it. Then, remembering the green-eyed man, and the fact that he had no real claim on Neji, nor, apparently, anything Neji wanted that he couldn't get elsewhere, Itachi felt his growing disquiet settle somewhat.

He couldn't say for sure _what_ he felt now. On the one hand, the thought of lying with Neji, of Neji attempting to smile and touch him as he used to do, still repulsed him. On the other hand a part of him believed this latest coil could be resolved with a conversation. The very conversation he'd gone downstairs in search of the previous night, only to find Neji leaving with that bastard. _But what can he say? I will never submit to him again, that much I _do_ know. _And as it did whenever he reminded himself of that, his heart contracted. Confusion weighed him down like a second blanket. _Perhaps Neji's actions today will shed some light on where things stand now._

So he waited. And was still.

-oOo-

The window was on Neji's side of the room. Above and to the side of his bed. From where he lay facing the wall, he could see it clearly. The way ice was frozen to the pane unevenly. Thick in some patches, thin on others. The sun brightened on the ice, throwing a glare that made him squint, but he continued to stare at it.

Back when he'd been running with Naruto's gang on a daily basis, stevedoring in winter had been the worst. Easy to slip on an icy gangplank. Hands too cold to do a job properly. But sometimes they'd been called on to shove crates along a ship's deck so that it could be hoisted up by a crane or pulley. Those were really the worst times. The deck would be too icy to dig one's feet in hard enough to get leverage, and gloves of any sort hindered the grip one needed to take on the edges of the crate in order to really shove. More often than not, snow or sleet would be coming down as well, blinding people and making the job that much more difficult. The crate, huge and unyielding, would slip and slide, jerk and stutter along the deck in fitful little increments. And that was only with the efforts of Naruto's unmatched strength and Chouji's bulk to help it along.

His thoughts now were like one of those crates. Moving along in sporadic bursts, only to come up short on his refusal to think. Or maybe it was an inability to think. Some part of the night, be it the fight or after, would start to replay itself, but before it could pick up any steam his mind would just go…blank. He'd be left staring at tiny rivers of melting ice on the windowpane until another train of thought tried to carve a path through his fog before coming to a halt. That went on for some time.

Presently, though, a chunk of ice fell away from the window and Neji found himself staring at a misshapen circle of blue sky. It seemed his mind finally found a route that wasn't blocked and forged ahead full steam. Gone was the blankness. Now his mind seethed and churned with memories.

But they meant nothing. Like watching storm clouds boil and froth on the horizon, knowing that they couldn't touch you. Nothing that had happened _during_ the night was of any real consequence. Not even the fact that he'd been mounted like some mangy bitch, unprecedented as that had been. No, none of that held any meaning because all of _that_ had led to the look. As if the entire night had been one big funnel, everything Itachi had said and done had culminated in that look he'd given there at the end. When they'd been face to face and spent. He'd looked the man in the eyes and known –_known_- that there would never be any owning Uchiha Itachi. He would never bend, never yield, never surrender any part of his heart. Maybe Itachi loved him, Neji thought with a private hitch of his breath, but it was not any kind of love he was familiar with. Whatever Itachi felt for him was wild and violent. Too raw. And not the least bit manageable.

_Are you sure you're not describing your own feelings?_

Here his thoughts slowed until all inside him was still. A bone-deep certainty swelled in him, and it was simple.

He waited some minutes more, letting it settle in his guts. Listening hard for movement from Itachi's side and hearing nothing. Realizing that a blue sky and melting ice meant the weather had changed. And the certainty solidified into fact: he could not go on like this.

The admission made his bowels clench in defense. He lay there staring at the irregular circle of blue, feeling himself out. Trying to see if he had the balls to really do what he was thinking. He did, he decided. Was it a dishonorable thing? Yes. Was it contemptible beyond belief? Yes again. Was he a yellow, twice-damned coward and a bastard? Yes, yes, _yes_. And so be it, by God. Perhaps he'd never be able to call himself a man again or face a mirror, but dammit, he was done here.

_Hinata would tell me to open my veins._

* * *

><p>Neji sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.<p>

As if waiting for this signal from him, Itachi was in the process of sitting up as well, he saw.

If there was any doubt in his certainty, or any flaw to the fact, it was put to rest at seeing Itachi's face. The look was still in his eyes, even now, if muted. _So some decision about all this has come to him too, then. _Nor did it matter what that decision was, though he suspected; the night's events all but proclaimed what Itachi was thinking. All that mattered now was that they'd reached a crossroads. A point where a choice had to be made.

Neji dropped his gaze. He wondered again what had set the man off, but decided not to dwell on it. He didn't want to dwell on anything that had happened before he'd lain in his bed this morning. Not one single thing.

Itachi held his peace for as long as possible. "It seems the weather has turned," he said cautiously. "What are our plans?"

The calm tone of this question, clearly forced, was duly noted. Hands clenching the bedspread beneath him, Neji took his time answering, absently rocking back and forth. _Glad he's not talking about it_. _As it is I'm like to have a heart attack. _The pain, something he'd been able to ignore until meeting Itachi's eyes, tore through the center of him. "I should probably find the proprietor," he said slowly, frowning at his lap. Talking helped. A little. "Ask if he's heard news of the railroad." He stood up.

Itachi followed suit, standing as well and holding the quilt around his nudity. He was about to ask something else, but as he stood his eyes fell on the floor, now illuminated with sunlight. "Where on earth did all this come from?" Without waiting for an answer he walked forward, bent, and lifted a handful of cash. He turned with it, ready to ask again, but Neji had moved to the washbasin, where a swatch of sunlight was particularly bright. The hand Itachi held the money in slowly lowered.

The bruises were ugly in the unforgiving light of day. Neji cradled one arm gingerly. His hair was all swept to one side, over his shoulder, displaying his injuries even more clearly. When Neji turned, blotting his mouth with a hand towel, Itachi was treated to further evidence of his temper last night. He blinked, gravely marking each contusion with his eyes.

Neji gestured with his chin at the wad of cash Itachi held. "Card game last night. Figured we'd need the money, the way that shit downstairs is bleeding us. Five dollars a night…" Neji shook his head, muttering a moment. "The rest of it should be around here somewhere." He tossed the towel aside and began hunting up his clothes.

Itachi sank back to his bed as if his legs had suddenly been drained of strength. At the same time the multitude of confusing and contradicting things he'd been feeling since Neji had gone to his bed seemed to evaporate in a crushing wave of shame. "You were _gambling_ last night?"

"Yes."

"With that green-eyed man?"

Neji hesitated in the act of scooping his shirt off the floor. When he straightened, he slowly pushed one arm through a sleeve while keeping his back to Itachi. The other sleeve went on, and then the shirt was painstakingly adjusted and buttoned. Neji turned when this task was finished, using a deliberation that spoke volumes. His eyes, cold and glittering now, were narrowed with understanding. "_Ah_."

"I beg your pardon?" Itachi's hand tightened on the money. Something in Neji's face made his shoulders inch toward his ears. That one syllable, whispered as it was, made his innards clench up in defense.

"You thought I was fucking him."

"I…" But Itachi thought silence would be prudent just then, and closed his mouth.

Neji watched him. Waited. But there could be no other explanation; if Itachi knew the man's eye color, then he'd seen him. And if he'd seen him, it stood to reason that he'd seen them leave together. From there it was no great stretch of the mind to conclude that the fit of rage Itachi had greeted him with last night stemmed from jealousy. In that light, the question of whether or not he meant to use Itachi only for sex was no longer cryptic.

Staring at him, realizing that the night suddenly made sense, Neji tried to determine if this changed his own feelings, so recently re-evaluated. But the look in Itachi's eyes, while mostly hidden behind what he assumed was guilt, was nevertheless still there. If anything, Neji's current feelings were strengthened, not changed.

He looked away. Found the leather pouch he'd carried his winnings in, and set about gathering the bills that had fallen out.

Itachi watched in silence. When Neji was done he set the pouch aside and picked up a coat from the floor that was obviously new. Itachi recognized quality workmanship in the garment as well…and remembered seeing the coat on the green-eyed man's back. Neji was now at the coat rack, where his scarf and hat were hung. The pouch was tucked beneath his arm while he seemed to spend a long time wrapping the scarf around his neck and settling the hat on his head.

"I thought you were going to speak to the proprietor," Itachi said at last. "I doubt he's outside this building."

"Need to see about the horses." Neji finally stepped away from the coat rack and made for the door.

"When will you be back?"

No answer. Neji paused on the threshold, his back to the room, but only to tuck the pouch inside his coat. He closed the door behind himself a moment later. It was done neither loudly nor softly. No indication whatsoever as to what Neji was thinking.

-oOo-

With the closing of the door, Itachi felt all the tight things inside him that had been locked in silence loosen. The civility he'd tried to comport himself with evaporated on a silent exhalation as he was free, finally, to think of last night without Neji's distracting presence.

He hadn't dared bring up his behavior last night, correctly assuming that Neji would err on the side of obliviousness. And sure enough, the man had stood from his bed as if he'd slept in it the whole night. Spoken…with a touch of reserve, Itachi admitted, but certainly no anger. None of the confrontational swagger he was used to getting from Neji whenever he'd displeased the man. And if this cold shoulder was to be the extent of Neji's displeasure, Itachi would consider himself lucky.

Especially, he thought with a sudden shiver, since the man _hadn't_ been visiting another's bed. He himself had behaved atrociously last night. In a manner no one of his station would have stooped to, and for what? Because he'd thought the man was his?

In light of that revelation, Itachi felt stricken with guilt.

But just as suddenly he recalled all the time before last night. Neji's consistent ambiguity. His brutishness, his gall. The man hadn't wronged him last night perhaps, but that changed nothing in the long run. His anger _had_ been justified, Itachi concluded. He _was_ being used for sex, and he _wouldn't_ stand for it any longer. He would apologize for his behavior last night, he decided, but enough was enough.

_Admit it. You're just afraid he'll pull away. That's what caused your rage last night. Not be used? You'd consent to be used by him for however long he wanted you if it meant he'd remain with you. _

Motionless with this insight, Itachi rubbed his thumb along the wad of money still in his hand.

When had he begun running from the knowledge that he loved Neji? Had it been when he realized how _much_ he loved him? How completely abhorrent the notion of life without the man was? Since _when_ did terror govern his actions? Make him behave like the coward he consistently accused Neji of being? Why could he not just go to Neji, as a man, and tell him of his feelings? Because society and custom forbade it? True, those were valid reasons, but having lived alone with Neji for days now, having engaged in unnatural practices without restraint, it was clear that society need never know what went on behind closed doors. What, then, prevented him from baring himself to Neji? If he could bare all else to the man, couldn't he tell him what was in his heart? Was he so weak as to fear rejection to the point of…well to the point of his behavior last night?

Perhaps he _was_ afraid. In fact, there was no question of it. But neither had he ever felt this way for another. And that, Itachi decided with a smoothing of his brow, was worth fighting for. Neji was just as lost as he was in this, having only bedded whores. He could remember Neji pleading with him in the manor, stating in no uncertain terms how much he wanted him. And again in the mine. Time and again Neji had shown him how true he was, even returning to his side when Akatsuki had attacked the manor, and whisking him to safety. And now, last night, to gamble for the sake of seeing that he, Itachi, was fed and comfortable, not cast out into the snow…

_And I hit him. _Itachi closed his eyes in disgrace.

"Hyuuga Neji, I love you," he said to the empty room. A smile, small at first, softened the shame on his face. "I love you, boorish bastard though you are."

Looking down at the money in his hand, he carefully folded it and set it aside before standing to get dressed.

* * *

><p>In the stable, Neji hesitated with one foot in the stirrup.<p>

He'd left his bag in the room. Couldn't have taken it without Itachi questioning him on it. And, though he'd never admit it out loud, a part of him refused to believe that he could actually go through with this. The pain. The pain was enough to gut him where he stood. It had him shaking, which made his horse nervous. _I can't do this._

Putting his foot down, he steadied the animal and just stood there, forehead against the saddle. Thinking. Remembering all the times he'd told Itachi he needed him. How long he'd waited for the man, hoping against all sense and reason to be noticed and wanted in return. Their first kiss during that preposterous lunch. Their second kiss in the mine. That _night_ in the mine, the heat and passion in the man. A wildfire running unchecked, consuming everything in its path. That was Itachi's desire. A desire for _him_. He would never know another man like him, never _love_ another man. He'd never loved one before. There would never be another who'd almost kill him in a jealous rage, then yield his body in the same hour. Never another who's smile was at once his reason for living and poison to his sense of self. There would never be another who filled his mind, his skin, his heart, his soul as Itachi did.

No, the rest would be safe. Manageable.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Neji lifted his head. Walked his horse out of the stable. Stood in the bustle of early morning and looked toward the hotel. He could feel the pull, so help him. That tidal pull he'd always felt around Itachi. The overwhelming urge to go back to their room, gather the man's compact body into his arms, and kiss him senseless. To feel the way Itachi's shorter height fit perfectly against his body. To feel all the hard angles and planes soften with his touch. To bury himself to the root in that glorious body, and stare into his eyes, and have those dark orbs stare into him in return._ I'll never be free of him. Never. He has me, all of me._

Then he mounted up and pointed himself away from the hotel.

* * *

><p>"And you thought I'd hare off into the woods as Itachi did? Travel north by horse? In this weather? Ridiculous," Sasuke snorted.<p>

Naruto had to conclude that the idea _was_ ridiculous as he stared toward the hustle and bustle before him.

Though under construction, Grand Central Station was still one of the busiest, if not _the_ busiest place in the city. Sasuke, having consented at the last minute to have Shibi drive them into the city via coach, hopped down now and was soon lost in the crowd. Hinata remained behind as Naruto saw about removing their luggage, which now seemed unnecessary.

Inside, they were told by a harried ticket agent that the schedules were all severely abbreviated due to the accumulation of ice and snow along the tracks. They could buy passage as far as the next town up, no farther. Anything outside of the city itself was of no concern of the station's, the man said. "Best you simply stay home until this all blows over," he finished by saying. "We've had one derailment already this week."

Sasuke leaned closer to the partition separating him and the ticket agent. "I've spent the past _five_ _hours_ driving through snow and ice, a trip that ordinarily takes less than two. You cannot tell me that the _railroad_, that the city's _officials_, have failed to see that transportation is coming in and out of New York? This isn't 1850!"

The agent threw down the pen he'd been using to lean close to the partition as well, mustaches bristling. "I can _tell_ you any damn thing I choose. You rich are all alike. Refuse to think your money can't get you the moon on a string, if it pleases you, so let me put in in plain English. _The trains ain't running but so far_. Service is slow. Prices are high. I said you could buy passage to the next town up, but even that won't be available until tomorrow. Now. Get from in front of my window before I call the law on you."

Naruto pulled a silent Sasuke away and led him back to the coach.

"Seems everything we packed will come in handy after all," Naruto said to the others. "Shibi, unhitch the horses." Three extra horses had been brought; it was assumed they'd need to travel at least part of the way on horseback. The animals would have gone on the train.

Sasuke found his voice. "Naruto, no. Look at this weather. We need a train, with a sleeping car, preferably a separate compartment for Hinata-san…"

"Tie your things onto your horse," was all Naruto said. Shibi was in the process of securing Hinata's things to the mount she'd selected.

"But this won't _do_, Naruto."

Wrapping his head and upper body securely in one of the heavy blankets they'd brought, Naruto swung into his saddle. Shibi bent to give Hinata a hand up, where she settled herself comfortably, also warmly swaddled. Both she and Naruto turned to where Sasuke was ignoring the blanket Shibi held out to him.

"Hate to think of Madara catching up to your brother while you stand around freezing your jewels off," Naruto drawled.

Sasuke snatched the blanket with a curse.

* * *

><p><em>I didn't think there could be any greater misery than the cellar, <em>Ino thought dully. _But surely Hell is a jungle, with these very same _things_ feeding off our sweat and blood. _The thought was punctuated with a sharp slap to her neck. Unsurprisingly, her hand came away with the offending insect no more than a bloody smear on her palm.

"How much farther?" one of the women croaked behind her. "We must rest. I cannot go on…"

Closing her eyes for patience, Ino barely resisted the urge to berate the woman. They rested every hour, it seemed to her. Any further delay and leaving the cellar would have made no difference.

When she turned, it was with an effort at a smile. The women took this as their sign to stop. "If we rest now, we _must_ push on for the remainder of the day."

"Daughter." Ino's mother picked her way carefully through the thick undergrowth towards her to lay a hand on her arm. "We have been pushing ourselves day and night for days. We don't need another brief stop; we need to _rest_. For a night at least, preferably a day and a night. Surely we can do that? There is no one behind us…"

"Because we _haven't_ _stopped_," Ino snapped. She started to say more, but paused to really look at them.

She'd lost count of how many days they'd been on the run. The measure of how hard those days had been, though, was evident by the women themselves, and no doubt by her own appearance. They'd learned to their cost that not every pretty fruit was edible, nor every body of water fit to drink. They'd poisoned themselves, turned their bowels to water, fallen sick…and still she'd pushed them.

Careful note had been made of what sickened them and what didn't. They learned. Adapted, albeit slowly. Running while your body mended was an added cross to bear, not to mention the insects that ate them alive, but they hadn't stopped for more than an hour at a time since the cellar. At most a few hours. Fear of capture had driven them those first few days; she could all but feel the pursuers closing in. Maybe the women were right. After all, if they _were_ being pursued they'd have been caught by now. Perhaps she _was_ being paranoid. A day's rest would go a long way toward restoring their strength. They'd be able to push on twice as hard afterward.

But she remembered the cellar too vividly. The guard. The blade at her throat. The blade she carried even now. It hadn't left her hand since she'd picked it up. Tightening her fist around it, she likewise firmed her resolve. The women had been defeated before their escape, and now their defeat was creeping back.

"Look," Ino said, softening her tone from earlier. "I know better than you think how tired you are. How easy it is to give in. We are hurt, and sore, and-"

"Do you?" one of the older women spoke up. "Do you really know how we feel? You've lost nothing. Your mother still lives. I lost all three of my daughters. Listened while they were violated and murdered. _I_ have been violated. Repeatedly. You are untouched. You've lost _nothing_," the woman said in a shivering voice. "And until you do I don't think you should be leading us. We are _resting_. Here. For the remainder the day and tonight. We'll decide together, _without_ you, what's to be done in the morning."

Ino saw the other women's slow nods to this and felt her heart would break. They thought her so far above them? That she'd placed herself in such a position? "I only want us to be safe," she whispered. Her eyes clouded with tears, but then her mother's arm came around her waist. "I only wanted us to be safe!"

Ignoring her cry, the women began settling down for the coming night.

* * *

><p>The entire crew stood still once <em>Skulker<em> had been docked and just soaked up the sun. The weather had gotten progressively warmer the farther south they'd traveled, but it plain felt good to stand on solid ground and let the last rays of the Hawaiian sun bake into one's skin. Almost like being back on the Kittering plantation, when Kittering himself had been away from the place on town business.

Ei basked until a dock master came bustling up to him with questions. "Handle it," he muttered to Bee. "I's got other bidness."

Bee obligingly stepped into the man's path as Ei scanned the wharf in search of someone in particular. He spotted him a moment later and left _Skulker_ in his brother's hands.

The man in question saw him coming over and casually left the barrel he'd been sitting on. Tall as Ei was, it wasn't hard for him to keep him in sight as he threaded his way through the throng of people swarming around the docks. This crush of people parted ranks easily for Ei's bulk. Their many different languages passed like so much noise over his ears as he kept the bare, dark brown back of the man he was following in his sights.

More Japanese than anything else could be seen, Ei noted. Smattering of Chinese and Portuguese. Very few white men. Even fewer blacks. Ei kept a sharp lookout, and his hand inside his shirt, over the handle of his knife.

There were quite a few twists and turns the man took. Narrow alleyways crowded with crates and rotting fish guts. Small side streets. At last Ei was led toward a part of the port that seemed to be predominantly people of his color. The man he was following ducked inside a darkened doorway. Ei took his blade out and held it ready at his side as he entered behind him. He was tensed to defend himself if necessary.

Before his eyes could adjust to the dark, a lantern was lit. His contact turned from it, moved behind him, and shut the door. Only then did he give Ei a broad smile. "Got your telegram."

Ei grunted.

"Saw you came up in some rig other than _Lightning_. Happened?"

"_Yakuza_."

That wiped the smile off the man's face. "Sweet baby Jesus. That what bring you down here?"

Ei had been surveying the small room they were in. Spotting a sturdy-looking chair, he went to it and sat down. "Got a job. Looking fo' someone. Two someones. Women."

The man hunkered down on the balls of his bare feet as the situation was outlined to him. He neither asked questions nor seemed to react to what was being said. When Ei was done, the man stared at the floor, deep in thought.

"Got money," Ei said more quietly. A sound scraped outside the door and they both went still. But then whoever it was moved on and they relaxed. "I can pay fo' the information, but I need it quick."

A few minutes went by as the man thoughtfully tugged on one lip. Then he gave a decisive nod. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

><p>"It's getting dark," Ino whispered. The women were asleep some hundred yards away. Only her mother remained awake, sitting beside her. "We've been here so long…"<p>

"Should we rouse them?" her mother whispered back.

"You saw what happened when we tried the last time. They refuse to budge from here and-" Ino chewed her lip, looking beyond them toward the city.

"What is it?"

"I feel as if we're being watched. I've felt it off and on for days, else I wouldn't have pushed us so hard."

Peering fearfully into the dark surrounding them, the older woman shifted a bit closer to her daughter. "Oh, I wish your father were here. You shouldn't have to go through this. No one should. It's _unthinkable_, what has become of us. Have they found us, do you think?"

"I…don't know. The darkness is so _complete_ out here, I can see _nothing _at any distance-"

They both heard the crack of snapping twigs, right before several murmurs seemed to float back and forth in the darkness. Ino felt her entire body freeze over, even as her mother's hand clamped down on her forearm with panicky strength.

"_There…quick."_

Ino managed to hold in her moan with one hand over her mouth at hearing this whispered Japanese, but it was a near thing. Especially since she could feel her mother's body drawing into a tight ball, tensing to spring. She wanted to stay right where she was. The idea that moving would draw attention to herself was the only thought in the forefront of her mind. Stillness. Stillness would spare her from the horror of being recaptured.

But her mother was on her feet now as several shadows slipped amongst the sleeping women. Ino finally heeded the silent imperative of her mother's clutching hand as their screams shivered across the night. She could just see them. The tiniest sliver of flashing steel in the night. How they reverted so quickly to sheep awaiting slaughter, also believing that submission meant salvation. Her fingers tightened on the long knife where it lay forgotten in her lap, but a final yank from her mother's hand urged her to leave the women, to stand and run…and run she did.

Terror now gave her the eyes of a cat. Where before the shadows of the night had seemed impenetrable in their velvety darkness, now she found precisely where to put her feet in order to speed her flight. Her mother stumbled at her side only once, knocking her off balance, but the next second they were up again and running, her blood high and hot and pounding in her ears.

The women's screams were terrible, and yet a cold part of Ino felt grateful. Grateful that her pursuers were delayed by their murders, thus giving her time to escape. It was not a thought she could have had before her abduction, but then that simpering socialite would not have been capable of leaping so nimbly over tree roots and tangled vines as she did now, either.

The screams stopped. And now both women were able to hear what they couldn't before: the fleet, furtive sound of someone running after them.

* * *

><p>He hadn't expected to find Neji downstairs, but when he'd loitered in the dining room until luncheon with still no sight of him Itachi knew a thread of worry at last. The proprietor had bustled up to his elbow, bobbing and dry washing his hands. He asked if Itachi would be dining below-stairs or up in his room.<p>

"Upstairs, I should think," Itachi murmured, glancing around the crush of people. "My man and I prefer privacy."

The proprietor paused mid bob, frowning. "Your man, sir?"

Itachi wondered what new strategy this was. Surely it was another ploy to get more money. "Yes. My man. You cannot tell me you've forgotten him and what he's capable of?"

"No! Of course not-"

"Good. Then have our food brought to us." The proprietor, still frowning, turned to obey but Itachi stopped him. "Where is he, do you know? My companion. Did he check the horses?"

"I…believe one of my boys did see him going to the stables, yes."

"And why this hesitance in answering? What he did to your son yesterday was regrettable, but an agreement was reached, was it not?"

"It was, sir, yes."

"Then you've no reason to fear him," Itachi said comfortably. "I'll be in my room."

When he did go upstairs some ten minutes later, it was to find lunch spread on a trolley, the braziers freshened, and the room toasty. Sunlight flooded the room, now that the ice had melted from the window. Everything seemed crisp and fine, especially with his new-found acceptance of himself and the feelings he harbored. _Neji must be seeing to some errand or other, _he thought as he sat in the armchair to wait. _I won't speak or try to reason with him this time. Only tell him I love him. That will please him. _

This thought gave him pause. He had never before had the conscious desire to please anyone. No one save his father, at any rate. And that had been all but forced from him. A means of survival. What filled his breast now was sweet by comparison. He was eager, pathetically so, to see Neji and give him what he wanted at long last. _And how arrogant must I be to think he covets me to such a degree? _But Neji _had_ wanted unchecked submission from him. _Just as you swore only hours ago _not_ to submit. To him or anyone._ Itachi considered this. He'd admitted that his refusal to submit stemmed from anger and the erroneous belief that Neji had bedded another man, but it still left him feeling uncharacteristically…shy. To recognize such softness in himself, such a willingness to _give_ himself to another.

_You've been giving yourself to him in every way imaginable for ages now._

No. He hadn't been. Neji had come into his life and _taken_ him. Taken his will, his beliefs, his body. _But I can give him my heart. _And with that, he surrendered at last, completely, to the war he and Neji had been waging for what seemed like months. All things considered, it was a relief.

Some time later he realized the lunch hour was done. Going to the room's window, Itachi could see people leaving the hotel, belongings in tow. When he craned his neck, looking down the street, he could see a stagecoach waiting. Several of them, in fact. Passengers clamored for seats, crowding the drivers as they waved money for tickets in the air. Itachi turned from the sight with a sniff. It was as if the plague had descended on the town, so frantic were the people to leave. Pulling out his watch, his fingers brushed against his father's key ring, reminding him that he, too, was on a deadline. And it was now three in the afternoon, with Neji off God knew where, doing whatever he was doing. Grabbing his greatcoat from the coat rack and donning his hat, Itachi strode from the room.

-oOo-

Slush fouled the street, but Itachi made his way first to the telegram office. Neji hadn't been there, he was told, nor had any messages arrived for them. There were precious few other places Neji could be; only the mercantile store, a saloon, a few inns, the church, the school, and the stable. Neji was in none of those places when he looked, nor had he been to any of them. He went to the stable last, with a heavy feeling of foreboding in his stomach.

"Aye, he was here," one of the stablehands said. "Morning. Thanked us for our service. Gave me and Lester there money to see your horse was well-cared for s'long as you was at the hotel. Took his own horse and left."

Itachi stared at where Tsukiyomi was nuzzling his palm. "Did you see where he went?" he asked once he'd swallowed.

"South. Out of town."

"South. You're certain?"

"Aye. Even gave me and Lester a dollar bonus each. See?"

-oOo-

Inside the hotel once more, the dinner hour well under way, Itachi requested a word with the proprietor in private. He was led to a small dining room in the back. "When was the last time you saw my companion?" he asked the man without preamble.

"This morn, sir."

"Did he saying anything before he left?"

"Nothing of note, sir, no. Just paid the room's bill to the end of the week. Said if you stayed longer that you would…see to the expenses." This last was said in a near whisper; Itachi's face had become dangerously smooth.

"If _I_ stayed?"

"Yes, sir."

Itachi stared at him until he realized that the proprietor was slowly backing out of the room. He let him. The door was shut with the utmost silence and care.

Several thoughts tried to push their way to realization at once so that for a few moments he wasn't sure just what he was thinking. One thought did win its way past the others, though, and it was that at no time in past had Neji failed to run whenever something didn't agree with him. Another thought won freedom from the tangle of the rest, coming on the heels of the first thought: Neji always came back. Always. But then, while thinking this, and realizing the two thoughts were fighting with each other, his hand dipped into the pocket of his greatcoat. The two warring thoughts became quiet and still as a larger thought, brought on by dark and insidious understanding, marched with all the stateliness of superiority to the forefront of his mind. There, it shadowed all other thoughts, cowing them with its overpowering presence. The lesser thoughts were just assumptions, lowly and flimsy; this larger one was solid, concrete fact, born from the contents of his pocket.

He slowly withdrew his hand. In it was a wad of cash. More of the cash from this morning. Neji's cash. A memory of Neji spending an inordinate amount of time at the coat rack explained when he'd had the opportunity to put this money into his coat, but not why. That hardly mattered. Numbly counting out one thousand dollars, Itachi figured the only reason he would be given money would be to pay for things. Expenses, as the proprietor had said. And he would only be paying for things if Neji himself wouldn't be around to pay for them as he normally did. So. Not gone for a while then, soon to return. Simply _gone_. Period. For good. This was the thought in his mind that made all else insignificant. Neji was not coming back this time.

A denial slowly came to life somewhere deep in his chest, where it gained strength and surged up the back of his throat. He choked it down with a ruthless attempt to maintain himself.

The money. He couldn't seem to stop staring at it. The way the bills fluttered with the shaking of his hand, or how he could feel the tremors throughout his entire body. He couldn't even swallow.

But then his straining lungs drew in a breath. His head, pounding fit to burst, seemed to pulse with less ferocity. The ache welling in his chest did not abate, however. It remained, coiling tighter and tighter. He tasted blood, realized he'd clamped his jaws and the insides of his cheeks were caught in his teeth, and at last took a second breath. Another.

When he lifted his head from contemplation of the money it was to discover that he could, in fact, walk. For a moment he'd been unsure if he'd be capable of movement in this state, but he made it to the dining room door. His hand shook badly on the knob, unable to twist it. And then the door was wrenched open and he made it through. Stumbled on the stairs, but managed to make it over that hurdle as well, and into his room.

* * *

><p>The proprietor heaved a silent sigh of relief. He'd watched from down the hall, near the servants' quarters. Of course he'd known what that particular pair had been up to. Known since their first night. Maids frequently said only one bed was used, the sheets stained enough to belong in a whorehouse. Besides, all one had to do was walk down the upstairs hall late of a night to hear the most godless moaning and carrying on taking place. Wasn't right.<p>

That wasn't his business, though. Money was his business. He had mouths to feed. Wasn't the first time he'd had unnatural men in his establishment and wouldn't be the last. But he'd seen how these two stared at each other. Well, not the little one that had just gone upstairs. The tall one. Always staring at the little one whenever he wasn't looking. Staring as if he owned the man, or wanted to possess him. A time or two he'd seen other men staring at the little one and the tall one both. Tall one always made damn sure, with those pale eyes of his, that it was understood that the little one was _his_. He'd seen the tall one go off with Filiberto too, and had personally overheard the brawl that took place upstairs afterward, when he'd gone to take their food. When that tall one came down this morning, looking like the devil had made off with his soul in the night, he'd braced himself. Mean, that tall one. Broke his son's arm. Kill you soon as look at you, most like. But all he'd wanted was to pay what he owed, pay for the week, and leave. And good riddance. Ghosting about the place with his long hair and his strange, unblinking eyes. Probably half Injun. Looked it. Better his half-breed arse was off his property. Probably a murdering bastard when he wasn't in polite company.

The little one had been in the dark about it, evidently. Tall one was mean, but the proprietor had an idea that the little one could be worse in some ways. Much worse. Especially since he wasn't so little. The look on his face when he'd told him the tall one was gone… and then just now when he'd gone upstairs…

_Well, it's nothing. None of my nevermind. Not much trouble one man can get into by himself anyway. Not one like him, uppity lord he thinks he is._

-oOo-

He was halfway to the kitchen, ready to tell one of the serving girls to send the little one's dinner up to him, when the noise started.

It came as faint knocks and bumps from somewhere in the building at first. Then the crowd in the main dining room became quiet as they, too, heard the sounds. And then the knocking became more pronounced. One of the maids came scurrying down the stairs squeaking in fright, and he was out in the front room, waddling up the stairs as quickly as his bulk would allow. There were hoarse shouts and curses now, along with the sound of breaking furniture, that could be heard clearly in the hall.

A cluster of other guests was huddled outside the room in question. He bulled his way to the door and leaned his ear close to listen. Whatever was going on in there sounded much worse than the previous night. It was only the thought of his furniture that prompted him to put a sweaty hand on the knob and twist.

Feathers from the shredded pillows floated everywhere, but no one had trouble seeing the lone man, greatcoat flapping, where he was in the process of smashing the armchair to kindling with the floor lamp. Or how he picked up the brazier and heaved it through the window, uncaring of any burns he might have received. Or how the chest of drawers was knocked over, the drawers yanked out and flung to the four corners of the room, where they either broke or gouged the walls. And then the dresser itself being picked up and slammed against the wall, not once but twice, thrice, until it was nothing but a hunk of wood in the little man's hands and a sizable hole was left in the wall.

The beds. One was broken in several places, but the other was intact. The one by the window. The little man seemed to calm himself as he stared at this. Hair loose, chest heaving, he walked to it as if in a dream state. Stood over it and stared at it some more. And then he drew his knee to his chest and sent his foot crashing against the frame holding the mattress. It snapped, and the man reached down and flipped the structure against the wall. Dragged it back down, bent, and muscled the thing onto his back, balanced on his palms, where he turned with it and saw them standing in the doorway.

They all ran, but he was ahead of the crowd, the floor positively shaking beneath the stampede of their feet. He looked back only once, to see the bed hurtling into the hall where they'd stood, tearing away a good portion of the doorjamb in the process.

_His face. Merciful Christ, I'll never forget the look on his face when he turned and saw us._

The destruction went on long into the night. He personally didn't see how anything could be left to break in that room by the time the sounds stopped, nor did he sleep a wink once they had. The thought of closing his eyes while that madman was on his property put ice in his veins.

-oOo-

Morning. Not a peep to be heard from a single guest. Those that hadn't left during the night –fleeing from the cloven hooves of Satan, you'd think- were bunched around the fireplace in the main dining room. He himself was polishing one of the tables, running his rag over and over the shiny surface.

When the little one came down, what movement there was in the room ceased. The whispered muttering was silenced. All eyes were fixated on the perfectly groomed hair and clothing. On the face that was composed to the point of blankness. And on the one satchel bag carried in a fist sporting bloody knuckles. A nudge from his youngest son brought his attention to the fact that the man was staring at him. Staring hard. His heart stopped beating for what felt like eternity while he wondered if he should approach the little man or not. Maybe he wanted breakfast? But the man turned and left. Left the hotel. While the guests all rushed to the windows to mark his departure, he sagged against the table he'd been polishing, close to a faint.

Whatever money the tall one had left to cover the bill until the end of the week surely wasn't enough to cover the cost of damages. Not even close. He didn't care. The news that the little man was seen riding his horse out of Fishkill was the best he'd had all week. All month, come to think. The proprietor celebrated by taking to his bed. _I'm_ _lucky he didn't set a match to the place._


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The change in weather continued over the course of the next few days. Though they were rising, the temperatures weren't necessarily warm. Far from it. They just weren't below zero anymore. It was enough, at least, to do the job of preventing anymore snowfall. Ponds and streams remained frozen for the most part, but as time wore on these cracked with great claps of sound. Before long the streams were flowing again, swollen with snowmelt, and carrying chunks of ice. The advent of true spring made traveling through wooded terrain both easier than before and hazardous; some of the icicles falling from the trees were massive.

For Sasuke and those traveling with him the steaming patches of sunlight and cracking ice meant one thing: the railroads were most likely running again.

They came to a small village one morning a few days outside the city. There was only one street. From what they could see, the village had all of a dozen homes, two stores, and a single small inn. An old man –swaddled to the eyes in a patchwork quilt- informed them that they'd be able to catch the railroad a day's ride from the village, in a town called Fishkill. Sasuke thanked him, and made his way toward the inn.

-oOo-

From outside, the structure appeared made of mortared stone. Inside was another story. Large colorful rag rugs covered the majority of the flagstone floor in the main room. The tables and chairs, as well as the counter running along the back wall, were all made of pale, sturdy oak. Polished to a mirror shine, they noted. Heavy drapes kept out any drafts that may have seeped in from the mullioned windows, but as these were drawn aside to let in light it was the roaring blaze in the fireplace that had the room toasty. Warm enough to have them sweating in their heavy outerwear. All in all, the inn was a welcome respite from the biting winds outside. Naruto grunted at the heat. Hinata remained as composed as she did no matter what her surroundings were, but Sasuke let out a thoroughly undignified groan of pleasure; he'd caught a horrible chill since leaving the city and felt as if each breath could be his last.

A woman, short, and nearly as wide as she was tall, bustled over to them when they entered. Her plump, pink-cheeked face was wreathed in welcoming smiles. By the pristine apron she wore, and the twinkle in her blue eyes, it was assumed that she was not only the innkeeper, but one with a healthy dose of pride in her establishment. The smell of fresh baked bread, cinnamon, and sugar wafted over with her arrival.

"_There_ now." Her smile showed surprisingly white teeth and merry crinkles at the corners of her eyes. "Half frozen to death, I imagine. What can I get such weary travelers as yourselves?"

Sasuke stepped forward, but spoiled whatever he was going to say by succumbing to a wracking coughing fit. The innkeeper darted forward and gently pushed him into a chair, a motherly hand to his forehead. He was able to recover after a few moments, and speak over her disapproval at his temperature. He even did her the supreme courtesy of giving her a small, if shaky, bow. "A good morning to you, madam. How discerning of you to see that we are indeed weary. Might you have rooms for rent?"

"We have three rooms total," she said, stepping back. She turned so that her smile included Naruto and Hinata. "However, only two are available at the moment."

For propriety's sake Hinata was posing as Sasuke's fiancé. "But that is fine," he said now. "My betrothed will require a room to herself. My manservant here will share my room."

They watched as the welcoming smile dimmed. The eyes lost some of their sparkle. "Betrothed?" the innkeeper said. "This good woman isn't your wife?"

"Not yet." Sasuke gave what he hoped was a conspiratorial wink. It turned into a wince as he coughed again.

The smile was definitely gone now. "But she is unchaperoned! Even were you married I couldn't possibly condone such behavior under my roof." Three blank faces stared at her until her round cheeks darkened. "I _cannot_."

"What behavior?" Sasuke asked.

"_Indecent_ behavior," the innkeeper harrumphed.

Hinata allowed her eyes to rake the woman from head to toe. _"Kill her."_

"_Hinata-san!" _Sasuke muttered.

"_Far be it from me to complain, but traveling in such weather and leaving myself exposed to the elements is not something I will consent to do when there is a roof available. Three days sleeping on frozen ground was enough. This cow is refusing us? I have a kimono in my bag, pure silk, equal to the price of this place twice over. Give it to her as payment, furniture included, if her life means so much. If she refuses _that_, kill her. We can work out the details of ownership at a later time. I believe the land behind this structure is more than enough to bury her in, but I will not be refused shelter." _

Sasuke struggled to keep shock off his face.

While traveling, the tale of Hinata's origins and activities had come out. Not all, by any means, but enough so that Sasuke and Naruto had a confused impression of an assassin in their midst. Sasuke hadn't forgotten what Gaara told him about Hinata, but it was hearing how she and the other women had killed several dozen of Madara's men that had him and Naruto both respectful and wary. He caught the narrowed look of suspicion in the innkeeper's eyes at hearing a foreign language and hastened to smooth things over.

"My good woman," Sasuke began, standing up. "My fiancé was chaperoned but her lady's maid fell ill. Alas, that worthy servant expired from her ailment not a week past. We have been traveling hard ever since. By horse, I might add. Forced to sleep on the ground or beneath bushes, not so much as an outhouse to be found. My bride-to-be has suffered. Greatly. Please, madam. We are in _dire_ need of accommodation. It isn't her fault her maid fell sick, nor could our traveling conditions be helped. Surely _something_ can be done?"

The innkeeper's heart had softened long before this fish tale was done, helped along by the fact that the one delivering it was utterly sincere and in poor health himself. She could well imagine this earnest fellow giving his coat so that his betrothed could stay warm. "Poor mite. And her not of these parts, too. She does look close to catching her death in those flimsy clothes."

Hinata looked nothing of the kind. She was impeccably groomed in her heavy kimono, her hair gathered in an elegant bun at the crown of her head. "She's newly arrived to this great country and unused to such rigors," Sasuke confirmed. "We are trying to reach relatives up north."

"Well. I suppose she can bunk with me. For modesty's sake, you understand. Ah, don't you fret, dear," the innkeeper gushed in a fit of sympathy. She reached for and tugged one of Hinata's hands free from where it was tucked into her sleeve. "I'll have you put to rights in short order." So saying, she pulled Hinata after her, calling for a maid to fill a tub with hot water and rose oil.

Nonplussed, Sasuke looked to Naruto, who was only now unwrapping his head from the blanket he'd worn. "She seems a nice enough-"

"Right then," the innkeeper said, bustling back into the room. She was alone. "That'll be seventy-five cents a night for the room you'll be sharing with your manservant, Mr…?"

"Uchiha," Sasuke said.

"Yes. Strange name, that. And another fifty cents for your fiancé, since she'll be sharing my room. I'm afraid food is extra, but there's wood for the fireplace in your room. I'm running a bit low, now I think of it. I'd be willing to give you half price on the room if your manservant would consent to…" The innkeeper caught sight of an uncovered Naruto for the first time, where he was now crouched near the fireplace. "My _word_."

Naruto was absorbed in warming his hands at the flames. Sasuke looked back and forth between him and the innkeeper. "Madam? You were saying?"

"What? Oh yes. Yes, I'll give you half price if your man would consent to chop wood for me. I could do with a few other, ah…repairs about the place. Half price, and the food at no extra cost. Goodness, I don't believe I've ever seen a man quite so _broad_."

At this Naruto turned from the fire. There was plenty of other light in the room, given the many windows about the place, so his shock of blond hair and blue eyes stood out. He straightened from warming his hands and dipped his head at her. "Happy to, ma'am."

The innkeeper went brick red.

Sasuke, eyes hooded now, cleared his throat. "That will be quite satisfactory, madam. If you could show me to my room?"

This she did almost sheepishly, aware of her lapse. Sasuke was treated to non-stop conversation as a result, as he was led into a sunny room of generous proportions.

"There's only the one bed, I'm afraid, but it's of solid oak, same as the rest of the furniture. I'll have a pallet brought up for your man. Made that quilt myself. The sheepskin rug is from my own flock out at the pasture. My Daniel skinned it two springs ago, but he's gone now. Consumption. Will you be wanting a bath?"

Sasuke turned from looking out the window. "I should think not. My chill, you see. Food. And wine, if you have any. Is there a stable in this village?"

"Oh, we don't get many guests hereabouts. You're the first I've had in a year, plus the one that came in a few days ago. His horse is at the blacksmith's, where I'm sure you can leave yours. He'll charge you, though."

"Quite all right. My man will handle the finances. I'd like a basin of hot water brought up, and some towels. The food whenever it's ready."

The innkeeper bobbed herself out of the room, and shut the door. Looking out the window once more, Sasuke saw Naruto disappearing around the side of the inn with an axe over one shoulder.

* * *

><p>Hinata, chest deep in a tub of steaming perfection, watched as the innkeeper came trotting into the kitchen. The woman kept up a running stream of chatter as she took over from the maid who'd been left to wash her.<p>

"I see Milly left your hair up. Myself, I never feel truly clean unless my scalp is scrubbed. Do you mind?" Without waiting for an answer, she plucked the hair ornaments from Hinata's bun and let the heavy mass fall down her back and into the water. "Such lovely tresses! Like silk. Well tended. Your lady's maid, God rest her soul, must be congratulated on maintaining such a head of hair as this. Can't say as I've ever seen finer. Unless of course it's the other guest upstairs. _He_ has a head of hair, let me tell you. Gave me a fright the night he stumbled in here. I'd have sworn on my Bible he was drunk as sin, but he wasn't. Asked for a room, gave me enough money to keep him for a month, and hasn't been seen since. Lazy, you ask me. Sleeping in up there all day and night. Milly takes him his food, which always comes back half eaten. He's pretty enough, but useless, that man. Not like the one that came in with your soon-to-be husband. Now _there_ is a man. Goodness. Used to think my Daniel was the last word on manhood, but that big blond one fair takes the breath away, does he not? No, of course you wouldn't agree. I can see your man cares for you deeply; you must return the sentiment to consent to traveling in such harsh conditions. Ah, it does my heart good to see such lovebirds. Stand up, dear."

Hinata stood. All through the woman's rambling, she'd been inspecting her surroundings. Walls and floor of the same attractive stone. Gleaming copper pots hanging in orderly rows on the walls. Strings of garlic, peppers, and onions hanging from the ceiling. Sacks of potatoes, barrels of flour and sugar, and jars of unidentifiable edibles lined the remainder of the kitchen. A sizable stove, where this Milly was even now removing some sweet pastry that smelled of apples and cinnamon. A large pot on the same stove bubbled with savory smells. Plenty of lantern light, seeing as the one window back here was small, and her own huge tub sitting in front of the fireplace. A small stool holding a stack of fluffy towels warming to one side completed the picture.

Acceptable. More than acceptable. She was in need of a base of operations for her spiders here in America. This building, inn, whatever it was, would be ideal. She preferred someplace outside of the city. Someplace easily monitored. This… Sleepy village, few inquisitive eyes…yes.

The innkeeper was rinsing soap off her legs. Hinata looked down at the woman's head, sporting its own large bun of chestnut hair. A strong-minded woman, one who was set in her ways. Not one who would give up this place easily. _And not one who would respond to women, no matter how skilled the initiation_, she thought as she stepped from the tub. This innkeeper had no weaknesses she could exploit, such as Mikoto had. Her death would be quick, and vastly preferable to negotiations. She would hate to have to give up her kimono, since she'd brought so few from Japan, but sacrifices would need to be made if Sasuke objected so strenuously.

"-and I said to Milly, I said 'Whatever can a man so lazy be doing with so much money?' Stolen, I'll warrant. Might be running from the law, not that there's much law round these parts. Closest is over in Fishkill, and there's a drunkard if ever I saw one. As I was saying, I needed that firewood chopped for the longest, and here I thought would be someone to help when Mr. Hair walked in, but no. Usually get one of the Loughlin boys to do it, but every last one of them took sick with that blizzard. But the big one now, that came with you?" Here the innkeeper paused in toweling Hinata's hair dry to pull up a stool next to hers. She leaned in close, where they both sat before the fire. "I'm a good woman, mind. No loose morals here, but I _am_ alone. Wouldn't dream of reaching above my place, but that big blond is a servant. Do you…do you think he'd take to me? I'm not so very old, though certainly not young. Still, 30 is young enough to still bear children if he wants them. I bet that blond beast throws nothing but sons. My Daniel and I buried two daughters…will you ask your betrothed to have a word?"

_The dogs in this country have more honor, _Hinata thought.

* * *

><p>Madara couldn't be called a considerate lover, but he was definitely skilled. <em>And thorough, <em>Kabuto thought. He grimaced through the final barrage of thrusts, withstanding their force in silence, as his own body trembled with the aftershocks of his release. There was stillness. Then Madara rolling off his back and turning toward the wall. Aware of his preference for solitude after relations, Kabuto quietly got up, found his clothes, and went into the main room.

-oOo-

Nagato sneered at him.

"Your opinion means nothing," Kabuto said, setting out the tea things. He saw that Nagato had already hung the pot in the fireplace and went to remove it. "Whatever he needs in order to recover, I am more than happy to supply. You know your place as well, or you would not be serving him."

But for the blaze in the fireplace, the room was dark. Barewood floors, bare windows. The sky was overcast, letting in little light, but he could see Nagato where he lounged at the farthest window.

Later, Madara exited the bedroom and knelt on the one cushion they'd been able to obtain. The tea and what remained of yesterday's rice were waiting for him. He sipped and ate in silence, ignoring them both until the dishes were empty.

At last he was done. He signaled for more tea as he finally looked at them. "Anything?" he asked, pulling the blanket tighter about himself.

Kabuto took his time answering, pouring the tea to precise levels in the cups as he thought. "It would help if I knew _what_ we were searching for."

"The le-"

Nagato's long, lean shape uncoiled from where he'd been watching the street. "The _legacy_, we _know_," he snapped. "What is it? We have been in this cursed Platts-hell for over a day. What are we looking for?"

_Were I well he would never speak to me like that, _Madara seethed_._ If he were well a lot of things would be different. He would have his men, his respect, and his legacy. Instead all was ruin, and the blame could be laid squarely at Fugaku's feet. _Him and his sons. Well, one is dead surely. The other… it is only a matter of time. _

"Senpai?" Kabuto said softly.

"Do you know," Madara began in a low voice, "That when first it was taken from me I was told it was Fugaku, but I didn't believe it? I didn't attack. I had no contacts in this country, and I wasn't sure. Even so, I made certain nothing touched the Uchiha in Japan, the ones loyal to Fugaku. Just in case. But then, after some years of digging, I found the truth of the matter. It _was_ Fugaku. He betrayed me. Betrayed our friendship. Our…bond. He was as a brother to me, and he-"

Nagato and Kabuto watched as Madara briefly closed his eyes.

"I found it. My legacy. Some years ago. Managed to take it back. I _had_ it," he rasped, looking up at their rapt faces. "I had it with me for months before Fugaku came and took it back. Took it despite the many layers of protection I had in place."

Both men knew that this was when Madara had recruited them, shortly after his defenses had been breached in Hawaii. Before then they'd only heard of the elusive Uchiha. "What is it?" Nagato asked again, voice hushed. "What _is_ your legacy?"

"Is it money? Riches?" Kabuto chimed in. "A gem of some rare origin?"

"It is the only true wealth," Madara said. He seemed to rouse himself from his thoughts. "Go. Comb the city again, I don't care how cold it is or how much snow is in the streets. Itachi could be here already. He may have the legacy."

"But-" Kabuto began.

"Go!"

Nagato watched as Kabuto began bowing himself out of the room, but he was past all endurance now. "You summoned me here with all haste," he breathed in a shaking voice. "Managed to get your strongest asset killed, as if she could possibly be replaced. Got the rest of the elite killed. Got yourself _wounded_. And now you expect to send the last two men you have off looking for some nameless thing? _What is it?_" he shouted.

Both men registered the faint sound of snapping fabric, but by the time this sound had translated itself to Madara's blanket being flung aside, a rush of violence had already taken place. Nagato had time to blink once at the flurry of movement that seemed to be right in his face before he felt a blow land on his windpipe with devastating force. He bent over, fighting for air, clutching his throat, and then a heel that felt like stone came down on the center of his back. It drove him downward. The same foot came to rest on the back of his neck, where he lay coughing and gasping. It pressed with slow, increasing pressure that had spots dancing behind his lids. "Madara-"

The foot pressed harder, all but snapping his neck.

"_Senpai_. " He could say no more.

Kabuto waited, bowed nearly double, for his share of Madara's wrath. He heard the footsteps whisper in his direction and tensed. He knew the frostbite and lead poisoning were almost completely reversed now. Knew that at this point Madara's malaise was more of the mind, than physical, and that the man was fully capable of every shred of cruelty he was known for. Kabuto was motionless. Eyes closed. Submissive. The footsteps stopped in front of him.

"You are looking for something that will connect this place with them. Fugaku, Itachi, one of them. I cannot tell you of the legacy; it is mine, that is all anyone need know. I trust no one, not even you Kabuto, with knowledge of it. I have been betrayed too often."

Managing to bow even lower, Kabuto tried to hide his relief. "Of course, Senpai. I will do my best." He waited until the shuffle of bare feet had retreated, before straightening halfway. He backed out of the room, reasserting his bow at every other step, until he was safely out of the building.

-oOo-

The sun's glare had him squinting a moment, until he turned to look at the house behind him. It was small, old, and in need of repair, but affordable what with the limited amount of money they'd had when they left. It sat right at the corner of Smith Street and Pine, barely a hundred meters from the largest bend in this stretch of the Saranac River. Its music was ever-present background accompaniment to the peaceful surrounds of their immediate neighborhood. Kabuto went toward it now, hugging his arms and hunching his shoulders.

They'd barely escaped ahead of _Kumo_ herself when she'd swept into their hideout. Inoichi had been left as a ploy to slow her down, and it was well they'd done so. Horrific as the trip North had been, Madara hadn't lost his focus. Being stranded in some town while the railroads were down hadn't dampened his spirits; Nagato finally catching up to them in the same town hadn't improved them. From the moment the name Plattsburgh left Inoichi's lips, Madara had been like a moving sword. A blade was nothing unless in the process of being swung. Then it became a weapon, a thing of precision, its arc the sole means by which it expressed the purpose for which it existed. That word, Plattsburgh, was the arm, the thrust behind Madara's focus now. His health had taken a sharp turn for the better despite their deplorable traveling conditions and freezing most of the time, simply by knowing where his legacy was.

_I cannot fail, _he thought, staring at ice the Saranac carried on its surface._ I'd as soon not be the target that sword swings against._

Kabuto turned and made his way toward the center of town. His first order of business, he decided with another glance at the house, would be to withdraw funds from Madara's account. He sensed they would be here awhile. It wouldn't hurt to be comfortable. After, he would see about trying to find this connection Madara was sure existed. Considering the size of Plattsburgh, he wasn't hopeful.

* * *

><p>The power of a large meal, followed by a soft bed in a heated room, did wonders for a body. Sasuke's party slept until well after sunset. When they woke, it was to the sound of the innkeeper shouting down in the kitchen. An outraged male voice accompanied her yelling. It was assumed by all that this was the inn's other guest. The topic of discussion seemed to be wine.<p>

Naruto stirred where he was sprawled on his stomach, forcing Sasuke to peel his cheek from his sticky back. He listened a moment. "Why do you suppose a guest isn't allowed wine? She gave us plenty."

Sasuke also listened to the tirade downstairs. "Too lazy? Doesn't deserve drink? I hardly think an innkeeper has the right to pass judgments on paying guests, do you?" He started to get up. "I'll have to have a word with her. The amount of noise she's keeping in this place is unacceptable. I could have slept another two hours at least."

"And I could have fucked you another two hours if you hadn't fallen asleep." Naruto reached out and snagged Sasuke by a calf, yanking him back down to bed. "I'm not accustomed to days without your body." He flounced sideways and managed to land squarely on top of Sasuke, who squawked. "Silence."

Sasuke did indeed become silent as a voracious mouth covered his own. "_Naruto_."

That was all. Naruto's thick knee sent Sasuke's thighs butterflying outward. He was swollen and leaking and already pressing forward when things seemed to take a turn for the worse downstairs: A bellowed curse from the other guest was followed by a loud crash and the innkeeper shrieking. Naruto and Sasuke exchanged a worried glance before they both scrambled off the bed in search of clothes.

-oOo-

They weren't sure what they expected to see, but it wasn't a wild and disheveled Neji brandishing his fist at the cowering innkeeper. Broken pottery littered the floor around the poor woman. Naruto pulled up short. Sasuke collided with his back, then gasped as he peered over Naruto's shoulder. Hinata, both men saw, was standing to one side, nearly unrecognizable with her hair down.

But for the innkeeper's frightened mewls, there was heavy silence. Neji was motionless beneath the scrutiny for only a moment before he disappeared into the back of the inn. He stalked past his cousin on his way out again, with a jug of wine held in his fist. Through the tangle of his hair, his pale eyes slid from Naruto to Sasuke, but he shoved passed them without a word. Sasuke turned to go after him, but Naruto rushed to block him with a raised arm.

"Naruto," Sasuke murmured, his eyes following Neji.

"No." Naruto's eyes also followed Neji until he disappeared around the top of the bannister. His door slammed a moment later. "Don't go near him."

"What? Why not?" Sasuke's eyes were round. "If he's here, surely Itachi can't be far? You there! Madam!" He pushed past Naruto's arm to go toward the innkeeper, but that woman chose this precise moment to erupt into full-blown hysterics.

"I have _had_ it with that bastard! He goes!" she screeched, completely mad. "I want him out of my house _this_ _instant!_"

There was more, but Hinata stepped forward, turned the disheveled woman around, and placed a hand at her throat somewhere beneath her loose and bristling hair. The innkeeper dropped to the floor without further sound, unconscious.

Sasuke looked from this remarkable sight to Naruto, who was still staring up the stairs. There was a frown on his face that suggested weighty thoughts. For himself, he carefully stepped around Naruto and surveyed the scene. He could see no evidence of Itachi downstairs, and the innkeeper had said there was only one other room…all evidence pointed to his brother not being there, but that meant that questioning Neji was imperative. He turned for the stairs. Naruto protested immediately, going so far as to grab his wrist, but he yanked free.

-oOo-

There was no response to his knock. He tried the door and found it unlocked. He pushed it open slowly, eliciting a faint and protracted squeak of hinges.

Neji, perched on his bed, was just in the process of ripping the cork free of the jug. He took the time to down a healthy swallow before croaking, "Get out."

"Where's my brother?"

"I said to get. The fuck. _Out_."

The bed was directly opposite the door. Sasuke kept his eyes on Neji as he advanced farther into the room. "If something's happened to my brother-"

"I'm giving you to the count of three-"

"Sasuke."

At hearing his name, Sasuke realized for the first time that Naruto was right behind him. So was Hinata. "I want to know where Itachi is," Sasuke announced. "I'm not leaving until I find out."

Naruto and Sasuke both stood tensely while Neji kept the jug to his head for several long, throat-churning swallows of the wine…before he hurled the thing right at them. Sasuke ducked into the hallway on a curse, but Naruto stood his ground. Bits of glass and wine splashed his left side when the jug hit the wall, but he was utterly still as he stared at his friend.

Sasuke came striding back into the room, and Neji was off the bed that fast, ready to trade blows with him. Naruto hastily stepped between them, distantly aware of Sasuke blustering over his shoulder about Neji's parentage and how Neji had probably murdered Itachi and left his body by the side of the road to rot. There were avowals of revenge that were only cut off when Naruto turned and dragged Sasuke out of the room.

Neji strode after them and slammed his door shut. When he turned, it was to find his cousin still in the room.

Hinata had watched the entire exchange with interest, but from the moment she'd seen him downstairs she'd known what was wrong. The same thing that had been wrong with him for the past year. _"If he means that much to you, go back to him."_

He didn't waste her time with a denial. "_You can get out too." _He tossed his head at the door.

Deciding to change tactics, Hinata daintily sat on one corner of his bed, bringing the heavy fall of her hair over one shoulder as she did so. _"Come with us. I owe Madara a blood debt for what he's done."_

"_You may think that as family, as…a member of the Main House of the Hyuuga…that I will defer to you. Or maybe you think you can intimidate me through other means. But you don't know me anymore, Hinata, if you ever did. My years in Japan are a long time ago. It's my shame that you've seen nothing but weakness from me this past year. You've seen me debase myself and serve another, but mark me when I tell you that I'm not one of your spiders to fear you. If you know nothing else about me, you know I'm a good deal worse than any of them. So this is the last time I'll ask. Leave."_

Hinata folded the fan she'd withdrawn upon sitting with a practiced flick of her wrist and studied him. Bad enough that he dared threaten her, but he was right. As skilled as she was, if there was anyone she was second to in combat it was Neji. The prize of the Hyuuga clan.

She stood, and he moved away from the door to allow her to leave. _"I know you better than you think," _she said._ "The Branch members were never allowed to feel, to…live. They existed as tools for the head family's use. Nothing more. Anything that endangered that purpose was excised from your life, from every Branch member's life. You are cutting me out of your life now, but I will wait. I have never seen you as anything less than my blood, Neji-kun. This past year you have been a good deal more than that. Whatever has happened, whatever battle you cannot fight with the weakness of friends and family around you, I will wait. Remember that." _

-oOo-

Out in the hall, the sound of Neji slamming his door ringing in her ears, she paused to think. She was aware of Sasuke-kun and Naruto watching her from their own doorway, but for the moment she had more pressing matters to consider.

She'd so rarely seen Neji with all his masks off. Stripped of all the ways he adapted to fit into whatever moment he needed to fit into. Take all of that away and Neji became what he was born and bred to be. A destructive force almost without equal. Certainly she herself knew of no one who could stand against him for long. As such, he was controlled. Wild on the surface, as these detestable Americans were, but beneath that, where he truly lived, he was controlled. As much as she herself was, as any Hyuuga was. _Itachi-san must be an equally formidable force to have breached my cousin and left him in this state. _Interesting. From what she'd seen, Itachi was honorable, but not particularly forceful. Certainly not as driven as his brother was proving to be.

A pity Neji wasn't someone she could count on at the moment. His assistance when they reached Madara would have been invaluable. Especially since Madara had fled with one subordinate. She'd seen him, and knew from her women that this man had been present at the manor, but hadn't fought. The fact that Madara kept this man so close suggested that he was very skilled. She did not want to go up against Madara and this man without assistance. She could, but she preferred not to. In fact, she'd bargained on meeting up with Neji in Plattsburgh or Clinton, hence the reason she'd left all her spiders. Now it was just her. Well, there was Sasuke-kun. And she recalled a report of Itachi-san handling some of Madara's men at the manor. Naruto… but no, he had no skill. Strength, yes, but without skill strength was useless. Still…

On her mind ticked. Outlining, planning, adjusting. When she'd arranged everything in her mind to her liking, she gave a small bow to the men and turned to go downstairs. Just before she went down, she looked back at Naruto. _"You are his friend. Closer to him than I am. Perhaps you can convince him that his place is with us."_

Naruto gave a noncommittal nod and closed the door.

* * *

><p>Sasuke waited until it seemed the silence would stretch on indefinitely before he said, "And now? Now that Neji has taken complete leave of his senses, may we leave to collect my brother?"<p>

Dazed, Naruto went to the bed and sat on it. "I have never seen him like that."

"Are you _listening_ to me?"

"We'll go, but I can't leave him like this."

Sasuke leveled a finger at the door. "You saw him. He attacked us. He is _mad_. My brother needs me, so if you won't accompany me then you leave me no choice but to go on my own."

"Yes?" The blue eyes, previously unfocused, shifted to Sasuke. "And what do you suppose drove him mad?"

"How would I know that?"

"He was with your brother. The mere mention of whom appeared to drive Neji to violence. What do you think that means?"

"I'm sure I don't-"

"It means whatever was between them went a lot farther than what was in your brother's letter to you. Something happened. He is my friend and I can_not_ leave him like this."

"Very well." Sasuke drew himself up to his full height. "You may catch up to me at your convenience."

Now Naruto stood too. The move, simple as it was, nevertheless conveyed a threat to Sasuke, whose eyes sharpened. "I'm only going to say this once, so pay attention. I've never fought you. You really don't want to take me on when I'm serious; I'm not easily beaten, not even by the likes of you. I said you don't leave my sight and I meant it. Try to go against me in this and you'll regret it. I don't like threatening you, but there it is. Decide."

Sasuke curled his lip, positively livid. "What is there to decide? You've already said-"

"Decide whether you'll mind me in this or if I need to tie you to the bed."

"You-"

"Tying it is, then." Naruto went to his bag, where he had an assortment of gear, including rope.

"No," Sasuke said when Naruto came toward him with it. "No. All right. All _right_, I said." He was fairly certain their scuffle in Naruto's cabin on _Whirlwind _–back before they'd become lovers- had been serious. He'd bested Naruto then. This, however, was another matter entirely. He was well aware of the danger he was in, as was Naruto, just as he was aware of what he meant to Naruto. He had no doubt the man would become unstoppable if it meant keeping him safe. Knowing this, knowing that Naruto only said and did what he had just now in the name of protecting him, went a long way towards diffusing his anger. It was perhaps a harsh aspect to their love, but it _was_ love. And Naruto was quite right, he had no desire to go against him when he was completely enraged. A madman was a madman, no matter his opponent's skill. He tried to take comfort from the fact that it was him alone who had the power to drive Naruto to that point. "What do you propose we do now?" he asked quietly.

In answer, Naruto turned and yanked their door open.

* * *

><p>Neji was bent over, looking under his bed for the remains of a previous bottle of wine. He thought maybe there was a swallow or two left in it. His door crashed open behind Naruto's boot just as he located it far beneath his bed. He straightened up with it and turned to tell them where they could take themselves off to.<p>

That was, until he got a good look at Naruto. The man had his dander up, as posh people were wont to say. And suddenly he didn't have the energy to fight. He was tired of the whole thing. All he wanted was to drown his troubles in bad wine and sleep until whenever time ended. He plopped himself on his mattress and held the bottle up to the light, studying the few inches of liquid in the bottom. "What do you want from me?" he said wearily. "You obviously don't know how to take a hint."

Naruto came and snatched the bottle away. "Good of you to allow questions this time. To begin, _what_ is going on? Hinata told us she received a telegram saying you were headed to someplace called Clinton, but why? What is this legacy she mentioned? Where is Madara? What in _hell_ is going on?"

Neji snorted. They wanted the full story? As if he had the strength for that. He shook his head at the thought. "Itachi thinks the legacy is in Clinton. I imagine Madara is headed there himself. He knows of Plattsburgh at least. As for what the legacy is, I don't know. No one knows, as far as I could tell." He glanced up at them, a thought occurring to him. "Where's Gaara?"

"With Bee, rescuing Ino," Sasuke said. His face was pinched with anger where he stood to one side of the room. "What happened between you and my brother?"

_Everything. _"Nothing."

"Then why did you leave him? Did he tell you to?"

Neji was a long while answering. He stared at the floor, idly rubbing his hands together. They were shaking, Naruto noticed. "Your brother is none of my concern," he said at last. "And my business is none of yours."

Sasuke's jaw flexed at that, but he pushed past his anger. "Fine. _Where_ is he? Can you tell me _that?_"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know," Sasuke said slowly.

"I mean I left him in Fishkill days ago and haven't seen him since."

"Might he not be there still?"

Neji broke the irate eye contact he'd held with Sasuke to press a forefinger and thumb to his eyes. "I doubt it."

"Why?"

"I'm done answering questions. I'm not your brother's keeper."

Sasuke's nostrils flared. "No. You're not. But as his right hand man, one could have hoped you'd at least have the decency to stand by him in his hour of need. A good thing I made for New York with all possible haste; I've been led to believe that my brother was safe so long as he was with you, and here it is I come to find out that he _isn't_ with you. He is in mortal danger and you could not even stand by him. I see, though, that such integrity is beyond you, so perhaps you're not at fault. Swine. One can't blame animals for their behavior." Sasuke turned to leave the room, but Neji surged to his feet.

It was too much. And that word, that particular insult, was one of Itachi's favorites. One he'd used often on him. Hearing it now, delivered with the same sneer, the same…_condescension_, Neji thought he'd go blind with his sudden rage. "A swine, am I? Would a swine rescue your brother from certain death at Akatsuki's hands? Would a swine shelter him on his run to Clinton for days on end after? On his own dime? Would a swine gamble for your brother to see that he _remained_ sheltered during a fucking snowstorm? Hm?" Neji shook his hair aside, revealing his face and the bruises that persisted in lingering. "This is what I got for my troubles. What I always seem to get from your brother in one form or another. I'll tell you who's a swine, you mincing fuck. Uchiha Itachi is the lowest swine this side of hell!"

Sasuke's face stung with this offense, roared as it had been. Without another word he turned and left the room.

* * *

><p>Naruto, on the other hand, stood with his arms crossed and met Neji's challenging stare. It was as if that pale grey gaze was daring him to make further accusations, but he knew Neji. And knew this wasn't him. Naruto broke eye contact at last and looked around the room.<p>

It was a pigsty. Clothes and bits of food strewn everywhere. The evidence of spilled tea and coffee on both the bed and floor. Neji himself was a mess. Naruto saw a simple ladder back chair in the corner and went to it. Pulling it to the middle of the room, he set it down in front of Neji –not too close- and sat. He leaned his forearms on his knees and studied the bottle of wine he'd confiscated. "Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell." Neji shuffled through the mess, back to his bed, where he slumped again.

"I know what you're going through, Neji. Went through a year of it myself. I recognize the symptoms, so there's no use denying it. You got close to him, didn't you. And then it ended. So…tell me."

Naruto, head still down, sensed rather than saw when Neji's face crumpled and he rocked forward to put his own head in his hands. "I _can't_," Neji said.

It made Naruto's skin crawl to see his eternally carefree friend brought so low. On the one hand he wasn't surprised. He'd told Sasuke not too long ago what would happen if Neji ever fell in love. On the other hand, he couldn't quite believe things between Neji and Itachi had progressed to a point that would leave Neji so unmanned.

But he knew what he was looking at. The pain that left you a memory of your normal self, that left you writhing in its clutches until madness was imminent. The pain that made you lash out at everyone but the person responsible for it. Oh, he knew it intimately. And seeing as Itachi _wasn't_ present, Naruto came to the only logical conclusion. "You ran from him, didn't you."

A low sob was the only reply.

Naruto nodded, then got up and went to sit on the bed, near Neji. "Thought so. Never known you to lose a fight. Whatever he did to you, you let it happen." Neji had to be head over heels to allow such a beating. _And here he is, running hell bent for leather from it. _He studied the floor for long minutes, trying to ignore Neji's shaking shoulders and sniffling. Neji didn't pick his head up from his hands once. "I ran from Sasuke," Naruto said when the sounds abated. "Because I was hurt. Because the moment he pulled up in that coach and got out with his brother, I hated him. Just in that moment. Hated that he'd chosen Itachi, hated how much it hurt me, hated how much I loved him. How much loving him hurt me. I _hated_ him for doing that to me."

Neji was silent now.

"But then he did choose me. Jumped into the fucking water and swam after me. Had I any sense I would have jumped in and met him half way. _You_ thought I should have, but I had the bit in my teeth by then. Had written him off. Turned my back and cut him loose. I was free. He would never hurt me again, I told myself. Besides which there was his brother, his whole life waiting for him…so I left. I ran. And I paid dearly."

"Like I'm paying now, is that what you mean to say?" Neji hissed. "That I'll regret running from him? My only regret is ever laying eyes on that son of a whore in the first place."

"So you're still in the hating stage," Naruto said simply. More quietly he asked, "How far did it go?"

"Far."

"I thought he wasn't inclined?"

Neji took his time answering as he moved back along the mattress to lean against the wall. He brought one knee up and rested his arm on it. "To this day he maintains that he isn't. But Naruto…may whatever god that exists strike me dead if I'm lying: I've never had a man so born for the touch of another man."

"You've _had_ him? Truly?"

"For days. In more ways than I can count. _Hours_ at a time."

Naruto realized his mouth was open. "And he was willing?"

"Willing?" Neji seemed about to say more, but he only stared at his hand. When he did speak again, it was in a voice that barely rose above a whisper. "No, he wasn't willing. He was _hungry_ for me. As hungry as I was for him, he just didn't know it at first. But when he did know…the first time I ever kissed him…and then our first night…" He spoke for a long time.

* * *

><p>Another day. No food. Little drink. Just the blazing sun overhead, the swarms of insects, and the constant humidity.<p>

And _them. _

Ino wished she were dead. She didn't think she'd survive another hour of captivity much less another day, but she knew they wouldn't kill her. It had been mentioned often enough how she was the most valuable of the prisoners, being Inoichi's daughter, and thus relatively untouchable. Sadly, this didn't keep them from other pursuits. The first time they'd tried to rape her she'd fought so wildly, managing to crack one man's skull with a rock, and smash another's cheek in, that they'd backed away from her. She had no illusions that they feared her. But seeing how she'd need to be 'tamed' they'd elected to save the best for last. She'd heard them saying this. Saw their leers of delight. It mattered not why they left her alone, she told herself, only that they did. If and when they came at her again she would think of something. For now, she was spared.

Her mother was another matter.

On the night they'd been captured, Ino had swung her huge knife without hesitation, and managed to kill three men. Two had gone down immediately, but the third had lingered for a day before they'd left him in the hills to die. By then the stab to his gut could be smelled at a hundred paces; he wasn't long for this world. Because of that, and how she'd later wounded two more of them with the rock, she was always bound hand and foot. She could do nothing but watch and cry whenever the men took turns with her mother. She would scream around her gag until she was dizzy and close to a faint, or until one of them sent his small, hard fist against her face. Sometimes they beat her before they violated her mother, just to make sure she was silent and subdued until they were done.

By the lifeless look in her mother's eyes, Ino knew there would be no coming back from this for her. She'd fought that first night, but now…

_I don't know how I can go back either, _Ino thought. She had no idea how she would be able to look at her father again. Day by day, week by week, her faith that he'd rescue them had shrunk. It was long gone by now, and she didn't know why she'd ever thought he'd come in the first place. She and her mother had been ripped right out of his arms. He'd stood by while they were bound and gagged and shoved into a carriage. Their abductors had threatened to kill them if he didn't cooperate, but he should have done _something_. Anything. So even if, by some miracle, she found herself home again she would never be able to feel safe. There was no safety. And if safety was a dream, what was the _point_ of life? How could anyone hope or plan or do any of the things she'd spent her days doing if at any moment someone could come and lay waste to your existence?

Besides which, she wasn't the same. If she had to sit and play cards, or make small talk, or go to parties as if none of this had happened, she would throw herself from her bedroom balcony. It would be like trying to spritz perfume on a full chamber pot. She might have her virtue, but she was ruined just the same; the men saw no reason not to touch her with their eager little hands, touch her in places she'd never dare mention. No, she'd seen too much, done too much. Her mother wouldn't last much longer under their daily abuse. Probably wouldn't live to see their destination, which was probably the cellar again, if she understood the men correctly.

As for herself, she had no intention of being tamed or subjected to any more misery. She would find a way to kill herself before then.

-oOo-

Around midday they stopped, and Ino braced herself. Before the men ate, they always serviced themselves with her mother. And that usually meant a sound beating for her while she watched.

This time one of the men, the leader she thought, hunkered down where she'd been allowed to collapse and threaded a filthy hand through her hair. He angled her face up to his. "Tonight. We reach the city tonight," he said in passable English. "Tonight is your turn." He laughed when she shook her head free on a scream, already undoing his trousers as he turned to her mother.

As always, she tried not to watch, but one of the two men left to guard her held her head in the proper direction. If she closed her eyes she was slapped repeatedly, or kicked, until she opened them again so she didn't try this time. "_Look," _one of them said now. _"And learn the art of pleasure well. Your mother is well trained, neh?"_

"_Unlike this one," _the other grunted. Ino held in her cry at the kick he delivered to her back.

"_It's said the wilder a woman is in bed, the tighter her love nest…"_

Ino tuned out the words and let her mind wander. It was one way to keep from actually seeing what was done to her mother, but it also confirmed what she already knew: she was too closely watched to pick up a sharp rock, or get to one of their knives in order to end her suffering. She should know, she'd been trying to do just that for the past several hours. And now she was out of time, it seemed. They would reach the city tonight. Once there…

She gave up. There, in the dirt, with the jeering and encouragement of the men surrounding her mother echoing in her ears, Ino finally let herself give up. Now she did close her eyes. The slaps and punches and kicks this incurred meant nothing to her now. The pain was distant. Perhaps they'd kill her by accident. That seemed like a sound plan. The thought drifted on her fading consciousness that if she really wanted to die, all she had to do was defy them enough. Surely one of the blows they dealt her would be fatal?

-oOo-

If she was grateful for anything at that point, it was for the fact that she knew very little after that. The dreamy state of mind she lived in continued for the remainder of the journey. Far away where things didn't matter anymore she could hear the worried diatribe of her captors. The two left to guard her earlier came under verbal attack. They were accused of damaging their prize, and robbing the men of all the enjoyment they'd been looking forward to with her. Several times she felt their small hands on her body. To hit or molest, or else to try and give her food at last, which she refused with the same glassy eyed silence that was her response to everything now. Once she even found herself beside her mother, as if this contact would somehow revive her, but even deep in her own mind as she was, she was able to see that her other neither recognized her nor cared who was with her. _Just like me._

* * *

><p>Time passed in a disjointed blur. One moment she was being carried over the tiny, wiry back of one man, the next they were stopping at a stream. One minute they were resting, the next continuing the ceaseless trek over the endless hills. Night had fallen some time ago. And then it seemed they were no longer traveling over grass, but hard packed earth and broken paving stones. She was upside down, tossed over one man's bony shoulders again. The way her hair fell over to drag on the ground was strangely captivating. She watched her filthy hair picking up more dirt until the whole party came to stop at a low building. <em>My hair used to be like spun gold. Or so men told me in my other life.<em>

-oOo-

She was thrown down in the cellar.

The stench was familiar. It did the job of eliciting a moan of despair from her mother, who, it seemed, wasn't so far gone as to ignore where they were. "Ino? Daughter?"

Her mother's lost cry brought her to the present in a heartbeat. "Mother?"

Her mother's response was thin, but her vacant eyes could be seen trying to focus in the dark, searching for her. Ino found herself scrambling through the muck of the cellar floor in her haste to reach her mother's side, calling her name the entire time.

The men were quicker. They grabbed her mother and hauled her to a standing position, facing Ino.

"_Enough_." The leader spat._ "We have no more need of this one; she was only an amusement to pass the time until we reached the city."_

Here he looked at Ino and gave a slow, broad grin as he unsheathed his knife. It seemed to catch the lantern light and glow. He moved toward her mother and set the blade at her exposed throat.

Ino was already shaking her head wildly from side to side. "No." Her hair was a storm around her head, getting caught in the hands of the men who rushed to halt her lunge at the leader. "No!" she screamed.

It was a faint sound. Like the sound her father's ornamental sword made whenever he decided to take it down and sharpen it. A small hiss of steel meeting resistance. Ino watched it part her mother's head from her shoulders and actually felt herself go mad. Everything in her let go at once, flying into a hundred different directions.

-oOo-

Confusion. Sounds. Screams and curses. A hand in her hair, wrenching her head back, but the next second her teeth sinking into the owner of that hand's face. Blood. Lanterns dropped, a fire flaring to life in the chaos. Blows and more blows. Beaten. Held down. And still she fought, still her mind's eye saw her mother's body and the graceful way it had fallen to the floor. Gone. Her life truly gone, never to return. No more gentle smiles from her mother, or words of praise, or encouragement, or support. Gone, gone, gone, g…

-oOo-

Shouting in the rooms above the cellar. Half the men holding her pinned down on the floor, already tearing away her flimsy clothing, the other half stamping out the flames. The shouting above coming louder. An almighty crash as the cellar door was smashed inward behind a huge boot.

There followed the only sequence of events that progressed in some kind of orderly fashion for Ino that night:

Behind the boot came the largest man she had ever seen, of a complexion she had only witnessed on people she'd never been allowed to mix with. His hair was an incongruous blond not far shy of her own natural shade, and done in strange plaits on his head. He was carrying both a pistol and a small axe. The pistol went off, but she didn't hear it. She neither saw nor heard anything but that man. She couldn't tear her eyes away, so fascinating were the fact of his presence and his actions. Her eyes followed him as he fired again, and then he was swarmed by her captors. Ino realized she was free, left alone as this phenomenon resolved itself into several men, not just the large one she stared at.

Her captors were incredibly fast and underhanded, stabbing and slicing and striking at the big man, but he seemed as impenetrable as stone. He stood, and withstood them, long enough to snap two necks, and fling one against the far wall, not far from where she crouched. His fists were hammers even her captors feared as they at last turned to flee. But there was no refuge, no sanctuary; the men who'd come behind the large one may not have been _as_ large, but they were larger and apparently stronger than her captors. The difference in fighting skill became moot. Especially since some of those large men also carried pistols. Whoever didn't get shot was most certainly cut down by the axe the large man swung repeatedly. Blood flew in red arcs that lent the final note of unreality to the scene.

And then it was over.

She realized the shouting hadn't stopped up above just as someone up there leaned his head into the cellar doorway. "Bee!"

This proved to be the large man's name. "Clear!" he shouted back.

It was with a start that Ino realized the large man, this Bee, was looking at her. He removed something from inside his trouser pocket, something she'd last seen in her father's possession. It was a silver locket, the halves adorned with the ancient circular symbol for her family. Inside each half, she knew, was a picture of her and her mother. He opened the locket now and studied each picture closely. She saw when his eyes found her mother's body, where it lay amongst her dead captors, and was helpless not to follow his gaze.

"It's her," Bee said quietly. "Take care of the mother."

Ino watched them. By now there were enough torches and lanterns being held by the rest of her rescue party for her to see every gruesome detail. An exclamation was made at the body still being warm, followed by a bitter curse for how close they'd been to saving them both. Throughout all of it the men were both careful and respectful of her mother, she saw.

"Don't look."

This was rumbled down at her from somewhere to her right. A large brown hand was held in front of her face. An offering. An end to the nightmare.

Ino looked up, noting the thick, powerful wrist and arm attached to the hand. This led to a shoulder she felt sure spanned the entire width of both her own fine-boned shoulders. The neck was thick and muscular, and then her eyes moved down to his chest. It was bare. In fact, he was without a stitch of clothing on his upper half. His dark skin glistened with sweat and blood; droplets of both made tiny rivulets over the hills and valleys of his muscles. Finally she let her eyes move up to his face. He wore his beard in a goatee, but his eyes were what held her. They were some pale shade that suggested mixed parentage as much as his hair did, a color she couldn't immediately determine in the shifting light available to her.

The hand wasn't withdrawn. It was as patient and immovable as the man behind it.

_If I put my hand in his it will mean this nightmare is well and truly over. That my mother is really wrapped in that sheet over there. That I have been- _she swallowed thickly. _How do I go back?_

-oOo-

Bee watched as the thin, filthy, trembling girl fought against tears. Her eyes were the most arresting mixture of blue and green he'd ever seen, made more so by the wetness shimmering in them. He considered withdrawing his hand, remembering that white people never touched Negroes if they could help it, but she looked so lost. "You're safe now," he said, trying not to frighten her more than she was already. "No one will ever hurt you again. My promise on it."

Her eyes went over him once more, he noted, making his skin burn worse than it had the first time she'd done it. She seemed to weigh and measure his words against his physical ability to keep his promise. Yet when those incomparable eyes rose to his face again, this time spilling the tears that had gathered, she did hesitantly put her hand in his. It was the cue for his men, all of whom had been tense and watching for the past few minutes, to spring into action once more.

-oOo-

Ino found herself swept up in an embrace of such easy competence that the sobs she'd held back since being taken from New York broke free at long last. It was only made worse by the security she felt in this strange man's arms. How strongly they held her beneath her knees and around her back. How closely she was pressed to that impossibly wide chest, as if the man really would personally shelter her from all harm. Worse, she felt as if that was truly the case. That so long as she clung to the powerful shoulders, and kept her face buried in that bull neck, she would be all right.

-oOo-

Ei was waiting, the few Japanese men they'd encountered in the building fatally dealt with and thrown in a heap. He held his torch higher when Bee climbed out of the cellar holding one of the women. Girl looked a right mess, shuddering and clinging to his brother, but he searched amongst the rest of his crew climbing out. "The other one?" he asked hopefully.

They brought the body out last. Ei bowed his head over a curse.

His crew was watching him. Ei went to his brother and put one massive hand on the girl's back. He could feel her bones. They felt as thin and fragile as a bird's. "Miss?"

The noises she made stopped at once, but she didn't answer. Only shivered under his hand.

"Miss, I'm right sorry we din' come in time to save your mama. Tha's my shame and my failure. God's my witness, I came fas' as I could. Your daddy sent me. Name's Ei. Bee there you done met, but here. I's supposed to gi' you this. From your daddy." He fumbled the letter he'd been given out of the back of his trousers, where he'd shoved it upon finally learning the women's location, and held it out to her.

She didn't turn around. Bee took it and awkwardly tucked it near her abdomen.

"Th-thank you," Ino whispered.

This, broken by her now-silent crying, was meant for all of them, Ei knew. It was repeated, hardly louder than the first time, and Ei swallowed the lump in his throat. "Nuff o' this foolishness. Move out!" he roared. "Fo' them Jap bastards send more men."

-oOo-

Her weight hardly seemed to slow Bee down as he broke into an effortless jog with the rest of her rescuers. Where it sat against her belly, she reached down and closed a hand around the leather envelope. _You did come for me._ Safe at last, and unable to stop the tears from running, Ino closed her eyes and let the rocking sway of Bee's gait lull her to sleep.

* * *

><p>Naruto listened with blistering cheeks and bulging eyes to the entire tale of Neji's year with the Uchiha and how it had culminated in Madara, the deaths at the manor, and ultimately Fishkill. When it was done, he too was leaning against the wall, mind churning. "God…" He covered his mouth with a hand. "My <em>God<em>, Neji."

Neji snorted. "I did want to know what having Sasuke at sea was like. Seems now I know." He shook his head, making a few more locks of hair fall over his face. "I wish I didn't."

Naruto was thinking of how much worse Madara seemed to be with a first hand account…but the intimacy Neji'd had with Itachi rose to equal importance with that last comment. "Why?"

Neji seemed to have reached his limit. He shifted on the bed, then got up and stretched. "Look, I wish you well with this whole mess, but I'm done. Done talking about it, done with that family. If you don't mind, I'd like to sleep."

Ignoring the dismissal, Naruto leaned forward. "I heard what your cousin said."

"And what was that?"

"About how the Branch members were treated. About you fighting a battle without the weakness of friends. Neji…talk to me. You've told me what happened, but not what it's doing to you. As if I can't very well see for myself." He hesitated, but pressed on. "I know what your uncle did, how you feel about people controlling you, but-" He closed his mouth when Neji whirled around to glare at him.

"You don't know anything," Neji said in a low, vibrating voice.

"You've told me-"

"Where you there? Have you lived my life?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then how can you possibly know what it was like? How can you sit there and think to have any _idea_ what it was like to have that monster run my life, my father's life, to the point where we couldn't even breathe without his say-so? How do you have the gall to tell me you know _anything_ about how it felt to watch my father beaten and cowed for being a man instead of a machine? For having feelings? To see him exiled? To see him struggle in this country, to die a little more inside each day at being banished from everything he knew? You think you _know_ what I feel? You know _nothing!_"

Naruto studied the wild, panting face. "I know something about Itachi has you terrified. And I can't quite believe it's the fact that you love him. After all, I could see that was the case when you came to see me on _Destiny, _yet you had no problem going right back to that house." Naruto was silent a moment, going over everything Neji had said. "Oh, my God. Oh m- Neji…did Itachi _return_ your feelings?"

Neji seemed to wilt. "Said as much, didn't I?"

"No, you said he was hungry for you. Lust, desire…that's one thing, but if he _loved_ you-"

Neji flinched. "Stop. Stop it, please, just _go_ already."

But Naruto felt himself close to understanding at last. He scrambled off the bed. "He did, didn't he. Did he say it? Did he say the words? Did you?" He waited, face animated, for corroboration.

Neji turned and slowly walked to the window. Just as slowly, he brushed the drapes aside and leaned his hands on the sill.

"Wait," Naruto said as something else occurred to him. "Wait a minute. You said you came back to the hotel one night and Itachi hit you. You made it sound like he was tired of the situation or something. Made it sound as if you didn't know what was wrong with him, but…you came back _at night_. Were you fucking some other man? Was that why he hit you?" The implications of this had Naruto asking this last in a hushed and awed voice. He crept as close to Neji's back as he dared, near mad himself to hear confirmation of this juicy development.

"I hadn't been," Neji whispered at last. "But it was what he thought I'd been doing."

"So he was _jealous_," Naruto said, trying to repress his shiver of delight. "Jealous enough to beat the shit out of you, and you…you love him so much you let it happen." God, but that this should happen to Neji of all creatures. And him lucky enough to witness it. "Still doesn't explain why you ran. Never known a beating to scare you."

"It wasn't the beating," Neji said quietly. He turned around and met Naruto's wide-eyed gaze. "It was _him_." By unspoken agreement, they drifted back to the bed.

Naruto was about to ask for more, but Neji surprised him with a question. "How would you describe Sasuke? As a lover, I mean."

"I don't know if I can describe it. I guess I'd call him the sweet and cuddly type? Affectionate."

Neji glanced at him. "He lays there and takes it?"

"Yes. He participates wonderfully, but yes."

"So he submits, then."

"Beautifully. So long as I don't hold back my own feelings he submits just fine. But then I sort of think it's in his nature."

"How so? He was as haughty as his brother when we first met him. All nobles are like that. How could he have been naturally submissive?"

Naruto gave it some thought. "Maybe that's not the word. He's not submissive, but he's always had someone else in charge. His father, his brother. Not that Sasuke can't be forceful when he needs to be, especially when he's angry, but ordinarily he's a perfectly agreeable person. And in the sheets…sweet and cuddly."

"Itachi is nothing like that," Neji said, staring at nothing. "A blessing, now that I think about it, since I can't stand sweet and cuddly lovers."

"What _is_ he like?"

"In bed? Fire. Out of bed he's controlling and unyielding, but in it…like fire. All hot and consuming. The _desires_ in that man… He doesn't yield in bed either, come to think of it. He takes and demands, gives it all back, then demands more. The times I forced him to submit I felt like I'd won a war. He wants _everything_ when we touch. All of me, my soul…everything. Out of bed, he's the aristocrat once more, the fires banked."

"Sounds like you want just as much from him," Naruto said carefully. "Would it be so bad, giving in to someone who wants you so much?"

"You don't know him, Naruto." Neji's voice was very quiet. Soft, as if recounting some horror that couldn't be spoken of too loudly. "That man…I've _seen_ his soul. That night he went crazy? After, we just sort of looked at each other. It was like…like seeing myself. No, that's not right. My name. It was like seeing my name branded all over his soul. I know I'm caught, from my side of things; you're right, I'm too in love with him, but it's more than that. He's…claimed me or something. He's never going to let me go, and that I can't take. I never asked to be loved like that."

Frowning now in deep concentration, Naruto said, "But Neji…are you listening to yourself? He's mirroring the exact same thing you're telling me you feel for him. It sounds like he's perfect for you. Didn't you tell me when we were kids that since being exiled you never felt wanted? Or like you belonged anywhere? What if you belong with him?"

Neji snorted.

"I know you. If you were a man of normal appetites you'd be the type to have a different mistress on your arm every month. Probably every week. You're wild. You get bored easily. You _need_ someone who will make you work to have him. To challenge you. Nothing less than a strong-willed man would be able to match your brutishness, much less hold your attention."

"You have got to be joking. I like my lovers to submit to me. Completely. To acknowledge my authority over them."

"And how long do those lovers last with you?"

Mulish silence.

"Exactly, and who is it you've been chasing a year?"

More silence.

"I rest my case." Naruto studied Neji's stiff features. "But this all goes back to your uncle, doesn't it. This absolute control you have to have."

Neji thought back to his early years in Japan. He remembered how his family had been brutally subjected to the whims of his uncle. Subverted. Humiliated. Demeaned. Forced into submission. And then the exile. If he'd thought loving Itachi, that pursuing him, would open so many doors he kept locked he would have taken Naruto's job offer back in January. "I just can't…be with him. Anyone else, okay, but not him."

Naruto nodded. "I understand. I don't agree with it, but I understand." He stood up. "Will you come with us, at least. Help us see this mess through? You can't tell me you don't care whether the man lives or dies."

"I care," Neji said grudgingly, looking down at his lap. "But I've made my choice. This time I intend to stay gone."

Nothing he said afterward made the slightest difference. Hanging his head in acceptance, Naruto put a hand on Neji's shoulder. It was his way of offering what support he could. He was gratified to feel the answering pressure from Neji's own hand, but they let anything else that might have been said go unvoiced. Naruto quietly left a moment later.

He went down to the kitchen and found Hinata sitting through a tirade being delivered to her from the innkeeper. Hinata looked as though she could not care less. Naruto informed her that they would be moving on at dawn, without Neji, and went back up to his room.

* * *

><p>Hinata felt quite honestly as if she could not be expected to tolerate anymore nonsense. She stood in a fluid motion, adjusted her kimono, and dealt a backhanded blow to the bridge of the innkeeper's nose, one that was hard enough to make her hand throb.<p>

First she'd been woken from a comfortable sleep in the woman's high bed by the unmistakable sound of Neji's voice. Then she'd witnessed the disgrace of him behaving like some dishonorable animal, one who had no concept of shame. She'd been merciful with the innkeeper then, but Neji had walked passed her without so much as a nod. The insult was worthy of dire consequences, but she knew what was wrong with him. Which she'd subsequently addressed. She'd left the matter in Naruto's hands, but Neji really was going to remain here, it seemed. Despite what she'd told him, she'd expected that he would see the generosity of her understanding and accompany her. _He has lost all sense of the art of subtlety, _she thought with disgust.

The innkeeper had regained consciousness some time ago, helped by that Milly girl with smelling salts. At the time, she'd paid no mind to the child, but now she turned to look at her as she tucked her aching hand into her sleeves.

-oOo-

Milly cowered against the flower barrel. This tall woman positively terrified her. She'd hidden behind the kitchen door the first time she'd seen her subdue Mrs. Millhouse. This time was worse; she'd heard a crack with that blow. She'd begged Mrs. Millhouse not to confront her over what had happened earlier, but her employer had been adamant. She was not to be treated like garbage under her own roof, she'd said. Milly suspected it was her way of assuaging her bruised pride over how the other man had intimidated her.

Never in her life had she seen a woman like this one. Never one so graceful, so composed, so flawless in every respect. These words didn't even exist in her simple vocabulary, but she was aware of the difference just the same. She had never before witnessed violence from a woman, or a woman in control as this one was, in any type of way. At all. Ever. Scared she might be of this woman, but Milly also found her inexplicably thrilling. From her exotic yet beautiful clothing, to her pale lilac eyes, Milly was spellbound by the aura and mystique of this woman. Her eyes went to Mrs. Millhouse, who hadn't stirred since that horrible blow. _Definitely_ spellbound.

-oOo-

Strange, yellowish-orange hair that was extremely curly and tied back with a piece of cloth. Freckles. Wide, light green eyes. Slight build, but she'd seen this girl lift a full, heavy stew pot from the fireplace and set it on the table. Hinata inspected her to the finest detail, down to the burn she had on one thumb, and made a decision.

She looked, but knew everyone else in this place was upstairs. Nonetheless, Hinata listened closely to the noises in the building. She could just make out Naruto speaking with her cousin. Low. In one of the rooms upstairs. Good. Looking at Milly, she said, "Come."

The girl came. Hesitantly, but she did come.

"Name. All."

Milly frowned a moment before her brow cleared. "Mildred Anne Rogers."

"Years."

"Um…_oh_. Fifteen, ma'am."

"Family where."

"No family, ma'am. I'm an orphan. Mrs. Millhouse and her husband took me in when I was ten."

Hinata carefully worked out the next part in her mind before saying it out loud. She refined and corrected it as best she could, but knew it was less than perfect. "You. My work, now. Only my." To solidify the transaction, she reached up and withdrew a solid gold hairpin from behind her right ear. This she handed to Milly, who took it with a gasp. Hinata waited.

For Milly, it was an object of more value than all the money she'd seen in her life. The hairpin was twisted and rippled into an undulating length no longer than her hand, that glimmered on her palm. She closed her fingers around it and brought the hand to her chest. "For me, ma'am?" Her eyes were round.

Hinata nodded. "Work. My."

"Oh…I'm to work for you, ma'am, is that what you mean to say?"

"Yes. No person. Only my. Always."

"Only _you_. For…forever, ma'am. Is that right?"

Another nod.

Milly tightened her hand around the smooth feel of the pin. Mrs. Millhouse hadn't been unkind to her, but this village was so boring. Frightening though this woman was, Milly couldn't deny that she was being presented with an opportunity for adventure. Perhaps to travel and see something of the world. All she would have to be, she thought with a careful look at those dangerous eyes, was this woman's servant. Permanently. All things considered, she thought she was equal to the task. "May I be your lady's maid, ma'am?"

"Explain."

Milly explained the duties of a lady's maid. And the wages.

Hinata listened, but could not say she had need of such personal attention. However, in the interest of expediency, she nodded. She would work out the details later. For now, she pointed at the innkeeper. "Out. In the…floor."

Milly looked back and forth between Mrs. Millhouse's still form and the backdoor where the tall woman had tipped her dark head. When understanding came, she felt the blood drain from her face. "Yes, ma'am." Her new employer seemed satisfied; she retired to Mrs. Millhouse's room.

After carefully tucking her new riches into her bodice, Milly went out to the tool shed to see about finding Mr. Millhouse's old shovel.

* * *

><p>Sunrise found Naruto and Sasuke saddled and ready to go. They waited for Hinata.<p>

-oOo-

Who was at that moment upstairs confronting her cousin. _"You were my guardian, Neji-kun. I have never agreed with my father, nor have I ever prevailed on your services, but you are my protector. Would you let me face this Uchiha unguarded? I cannot take the chance that he will overpower me. He has subordinates still. And I _must_ have justice. Or have you become so like these people that you have forgotten who you are?"_

"_I'd like to forget," _Neji said, turning away from her.

Hinata had had enough. "_Hyuuga Neji, I demand your presence. Save what little face you have left and remember that I am blood. It is over, you have left him, therefore he has ceased to exist. Will you cringe like a kicked dog over someone who has ceased to exist? Help me. Please," _she added when she saw him wavering. _"Help me fight him and I will ask nothing else."_

-oOo-

Naruto gave an approving nod when Neji sullenly stalked out of the inn. Seemed he was on his way to the blacksmith for his horse. He was relieved to see that Neji would be tagging along, but surprised to see the maid accompanying Hinata.

So was Sasuke. "_What's this?"_

"_My lady's maid. Speaking of which, there is something I need you to explain to her."_

Sasuke eyed the inn. The innkeeper had been mysteriously absent last night and this morning. The dinner meal and breakfast had both been served by this same girl he saw standing beside Hinata's horse. "_I doubt the innkeeper would take kindly to you commandeering her servant-"_

"_As the woman is dead," _Hinata said calmly, mounting her horse_, "I don't see that she has anything to say about it."_

Sasuke exchanged a slow, horrified look with Naruto. He started to say something, glanced at Hinata, then thought better of it.

"What now?" Naruto said in English. He had an itch to be gone, before this situation got out of hand. _A woman is dead. It's already out of hand._

Sasuke struggled to think around his shock and anger. "That man my brother has. Inoichi. He was out when we arrived at the manor, but I'm sure he knows of us by now. I'll…send a telegram to him telling him to…uh…monitor the investigation that's bound to be mounted at the innkeeper's demise. We'll be recalled as her last guests, no doubt. He'll have to grease a few palms, but…I will tell him to acquire this building when the case is closed. I've a feeling the poor woman is buried on the grounds somewhere." A feeling confirmed by the maid's downcast eyes and crimson face. "We'll need to keep this in the family until I can think of something else. He'll have to come here himself, probably, to make up some story that will steer the authorities away from too close a look. _Dammit_."

Hinata said not a word.

Naruto pointed out that none of that could be sent in a telegram, to which Sasuke agreed he would have to write a letter. But post would take too long. He did go back into the inn and write the letter, but he hid it beneath a loose stone in the kitchen floor that the maid showed him. He then left to send a telegram telling Inoichi to come to the village with all possible haste, and where to find the letter. By that time, Neji had come back not only with his horse, but with a spirited looking mare for the maid, whose name they all learned was Milly.

The delay took up half the morning. Naruto went out back to inspect the ground. He took his horse and walked it several times over the earth, masking the fresh turned soil as best he could. Beyond that, there was nothing he could do.

"What is _your_ name, ma'am?" Milly asked Hinata when they were finally on their way.

"_Senpai_."

"Lady Senpai," Milly smiled. "That's such a lovely name."

Past all endurance, Sasuke grit his teeth. "We ride hard for this blasted Fishkill." So saying, he booted his horse into a gallop.

* * *

><p>One of the first things his father had taught him, when training out of doors, was direction. How to navigate, to deduce one's position by the sun, the stars, and the plants. The moment he exited the stable in Fishkill a glance at the sun sufficed to tell him which way was north. He maintained that heading as he left town and found himself in snowy woods. At some point he'd need to acquire a map. A compass, perhaps. For now he recalled enough of the map Inoichi had shown him to make it to Poughkeepsie, the town after Fishkill.<p>

It was a journey that would most likely characterize the rest of his trip north. He was frozen, starving, and utterly wretched, but he refused to spend the money Neji had left for him. He did find a farmhouse late on the second afternoon, where he managed to offer his humble services for a meal and the use of their barn. It wasn't the first time he'd chopped wood, but the last time was so long ago, done as some kind of training exercise at the behest of his father, that he was lucky not to chop off his own foot. The rhythm came back to him with difficulty. The elderly man who lived on the farm seemed not to notice the uneven quality of his work, and the barn was a blessed welcome from the raw wind. He slept that night shamelessly sharing body heat with his horse.

Once in Poughkeepsie, he sold his father's pocket watch for enough money to stable his horse, buy himself a night in a comfortable inn, and feed himself a decent meal. There was even money left over, he was pleased to note. Enough so that he could purchase a ticket to Plattsburgh, if he wished; he was told the train was due in at 9 am the next morning. Circumstances dictated he conserve his money, however, so he considered alternative means of getting north.

-oOo-

Eight of the clock the next day saw Itachi several hundred yards down the track from the station, on the opposite side used for boarding. He had his bag, himself, and Tsukiyomi hidden in the brush as the freight and mail cars rolled to a stop not far from him an hour later. Farther up the track, past the remaining freight cars and mail car, were the passenger cars. He could just hear people disembarking as he looked around carefully. Unobserved, he made a dash for the nearest boxcar.

The previous night, when asking about the rail service, he'd also inquired as to what kind of train would be arriving, and what, if any, goods it would be hauling. This was something he knew about, since his business frequently transported supplies from New York to Boston. He was able to learn that two of the boxcars should be empty, as they were only being delivered to Troy. He ran to the second of these two now, grateful that the sliding doors were left open. Tsukiyomi trotted after him.

The interior wasn't completely empty. Some empty grain sacks and a few pieces of lumber were cast aside in a corner, but that was fine. In fact, it proved fortuitous as the problem of getting his horse into the boxcar became evident. No matter the encouragement he shouted, he could not get the animal to jump in. He supposed, now that he thought about it, that Tsukiyomi had never been trained to do such a thing, but he rather thought now a ridiculous time to become aware of that fact.

By the time he'd pushed one of the wider pieces of lumber into an incline leading from the ground and into the car, he was sweating, and the final whistle for boarding was sounding. The train would begin to move at any moment. Hauling on the animal's reins finally produced movement. Snorting dubiously, Tsukiyomi clopped up the makeshift ramp. The horse was barely inside before the train lurched, the wood fell to the ground, and they were slowly rolling north.

Itachi collapsed on the empty grain sacks with a sigh of relief.

He could only ride the train as far as Troy, he knew. It was the final stop on this line. The rest of the way would have to be made on horseback. He could get off in Troy, he supposed, cross the Hudson, and catch the rail on the west side of the river, in Albany, but that track would take him across the entire upper half of the state before he would find a connection that could take him to Plattsburgh. Likely the Plattsburgh & Montreal line. That was too far out of his way. He would get by as best he could, when that time came. He refused to think about it now. For now, he sat up, moved to one of the open doors, and watched the countryside rolling by.

* * *

><p>For the next few days he did not allow himself to think. It was enough that he struggled with the things he felt. He allowed the ride, the passing scenery, and the sense of freedom, of…wholesomeness…riding in the boxcar gave him to partially cleanse his spirit of recent events. Whenever thoughts of those events did crop up, he tamped them down ruthlessly. He let nothing more troubling than finding food for himself and his horse occupy his thoughts. This he did by hopping down from the boxcar whenever the rail stopped at a station. This far north most of the stations were surrounded by countryside, sometimes bordering a lake. Plenty of grass and water for his horse. Tsukiyomi quickly learned to jump down from the car once hunger set in. Getting back in was another matter, but on the fourth such stop the horse finally did the impossible and took a running leap into the car, hooves clattering madly. Itachi nearly cheered.<p>

He had an idea that horses ate things besides grass, but he had no idea where to get grain. He likewise had no means to brush the animal, as he was vaguely aware was supposed to happen. For certain Tsukiyomi wasn't getting enough food and water to satisfy his hunger completely, but the only other alternative was to turn the animal loose. That he could not do.

He was able to make brief –very brief- forays into the stores beyond the station and purchase food. Sometimes it was a loaf of bread, which turned out to be a few pennies. Far from the dollar he'd thought such a thing would cost. Another time he was unable to get to the town and back after feeding Tsukiyomi. He spotted a woman's wicker basket full of food where it stood at her feet. She was in the process of hugging several people in farewell right there at the station. Itachi graciously offered to carry the thing into the train for her. She agreed, seeing only a filthy man with his face obscured by an equally dirty newsboy cap he'd acquired from somewhere. She pointed to the passenger car, gave him a few coins for his trouble, then went right back to her tearful farewell. He headed in the general direction of the passenger car, ducked behind a crowd of disembarking travelers, and circled back to his boxcar.

That bit of theft fed him for days. Tsukiyomi claimed all the apples.

It was a small adventure. An interlude from everything. A rediscovery of his ability to take care of himself. He found that the reliance on himself, on his wits, restored his equilibrium as nothing else could have, and for that he was extremely grateful. When he left the boxcar behind in Troy, he knew who he was again.

-oOo-

He elected to stay 2 days in Troy for his horse's sake. He told the stable hand he left him with of the harsh traveling he'd done and by what means, and put the animal in his capable hands. He had another long journey ahead of him and he wanted the animal fit.

"He'll need more than two days," the man said.

"Two days is all you have," Itachi replied. April 1st had come and gone, but there was nothing he could do about that. Hopefully whoever had written him would still be around, or else able to be easily located once he got to Clinton. He needed these two days.

He had just enough money left to rent a room in a widow's small home. She provided him with hot baths, food, and all the wood for his fireplace that he could possibly want for a fraction of his remaining money. She hinted strongly that she would give him these comforts for free…should he choose to avail himself of the comfort of her body. Itachi ignored the glances and smiles. And locked his bedroom door at night.

When he set out on the morning of the third day, his money gone in the purchase of supplies and weapons, he was ready for this next stage in his journey.

* * *

><p>He was hours outside of Troy, past Lansingburgh, and deep in wooded country before his mind began working again. This time he let the thoughts come. Oddly enough, they started with Sasuke's run from the manor.<p>

The night Sasuke had left, over a year ago, he'd made it home before the household had woken. The uproar caused by the discovery of Sasuke's absence had made it easy for him to feign shock. And then when Sai had been murdered… At the time he'd never considered his father's actions as rash. It was simple fact: disobey Uchiha Fugaku, and you might as well dig your own grave. He'd recently rationalized his father's actions to Neji as being dictated by his fear of Madara gaining the upper hand. That now seemed preposterous. How would failure to marry Sakura have given Madara the upper hand? Having met Madara he now knew that this legacy was the only thing the man was interested in. Unless marriage to Sakura somehow kept the legacy safe, his father had behaved like a madman.

This too had been a fact he'd grown up with, and thus ignored: his father had not been altogether what one would call sane. He could see that now. The rages his father had flown into whenever crossed could not have been accepted as rational behavior. There, plodding along in the dripping woods, shut down from every emotion, he could see this point clearly. As well as just how like his father he himself was. He remembered _hating_ his father for what he'd done to Sasuke with that cane, and yet he'd done the same thing when he'd thought Neji had cuckolded him.

_And all this insight is neither here nor there. _

No. It wasn't. But it helped him to avoid thinking about how much pain he was in.

What was needed, he decided, was a return to his upbringing. Madness aside, his father had raised him to be a proper man, and men were always in control of themselves and their affairs. There'd been altogether too much upheaval in his life of late. That was done now. He would neither look back, nor allow thoughts –any thoughts- to derail him from the task at hand. He alone had allowed his life to fall apart, so it fell to him to put it to rights. This he could do. Distractions were no longer a hindrance. He was in complete and utter control of himself once more. As he'd been for all of his life until…until recently. A cool head. Calm reasoning. And above all, _control_. These were the hallmarks of nobility and quality breeding, both of which he had. He was better than what he'd let himself become. Men did not let their emotions rule them. They did not yearn for what they couldn't have. If they wanted something, and the having of it would benefit them, then they went after it. But if the coveted object was nothing more than the fulfillment of wishes and dreams that had _no_ _basis_ in reality, then a real man would exercise restraint. _Control_. Sense. A man knew his place.

And he knew his place, by God. His place was in Clinton, finding that legacy. He had a fortune to wrest back from Madara, Sasuke to keep safe if he was still alive, his home, his _life_ to put back in order. That was more than enough to be going on with.

An icicle dropped not three feet to his left, where it embedded itself deep in the dirt. Brought out of his reverie, Itachi concentrated on watching the forest, alert for pursuit, robbers, or anything else that would pose a threat.

-oOo-

This leg of the journey took him considerably longer than his time on the rail, and it was decidedly less fun. For the most part he followed the remains of the Hudson River until he came to the town of Fort Edward. It took him many days, but he was careful of Tsukiyomi, who was of superb stock, but unused to such rigors. It was frozen, windy country up here at the base of the Adirondacks, if beautiful. They both suffered, but he didn't stop except to build a fire each night and take what rest he could. Whenever he came across a village or nameless town, he hired himself out for food. The days he went without seeing humanity were the days he lived off his supplies, or else hunted. It was a journey that did the job of carving away whatever remained of his claim to gentility. He was reduced the most basic elements of himself.

Survival was paramount in his mind, but on his easier days he also thought of Neji.

He didn't think there would ever come a time when thoughts of the man didn't burn from within. He was used to the pain now, used to the lump it put in his throat. Once or twice he found hot tears rolling one by one down his cheeks. Each mile he covered put more and more distance between him and that ungodly mess, and for awhile each mile hurt him worse.

It didn't get better, but as with any burden, he grew better able to bear what had happened. Now that he was on the outside looking in it seemed he could see each separate instance wherein he and Neji had both gone wrong. He would never stop wanting the man, but he would also never forgive him for disabling him as he'd done. For showing him so much, giving him so much, taking his soul…and then abandoning him. He would _never_ forgive that.

But that was over. Neji was gone and he himself would not look back.

-oOo-

Using the map he'd bought, he was able to work out a route that bypassed Plattsburgh entirely. He had no actual need to go there. There were roads, though they were frequently muddy with winter thaw, which made the journey a little easier. His greatest stroke of luck came when he and Tsukiyomi were able to travel a good portion of the way via steamboat on Lake Champlain. That cut his travel time down considerably. He and his horse had been allowed to rest.

When, some two and a half weeks after leaving Troy, he exited his latest stretch of woods to see the lights of Clinton twinkling ahead in the dusk, he was tired to the bone. Nevertheless, he patted Tsukiyomi's neck with a sense of accomplishment. "We made it."

_And now for the final showdown_, he thought grimly. _I do hope you've found your way here, Madara. You'll soon discover that I'm not the same man you last saw in the manor. _


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Just want to mention something regarding the format of this chapter. Obviously we have a flashback right off, but after that is a scene with Itachi. After that scene, and for the majority of the chapter, we're looking at what all the other characters were up to while Itachi was riding in the boxcar and making his way to Clinton. Sort of going back in time a couple of weeks. When we get to Itachi again, everyone's caught up on the same page and things move forward accordingly.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 19<span>

"_Quickly! You're falling behind! I don't want Mason catching us again. Last time he had the nerve to threaten me with a switch."_

"_And you swore to see him hanged," Sasuke huffed as he struggled to keep up. "He went to Father about it."_

_Itachi paused his furtive run to crouch behind a bush. Sasuke dropped beside him on a grateful sigh. "I remember that," Itachi whispered. He carefully parted the branches of the bush to peer over the extreme southern edge of their property. "Father called me down to his den, where Mason was. Had us both on the carpet. He asked Mason if it was true he'd threatened me. The bastard admitted it without the slightest shame. Father docked him a month's pay, but after he'd dismissed him from the room he told me that I was perfectly within my rights to call him on it. I'm heir to the family; Mason's nothing but my servant." _

_Sasuke looked between the branches now too, searching for the telltale bulk of the head gardener Mason Curry. "Then why are we skulking about our own property like this?"_

"_Because Mason, that arse, took me aside the next time I was in the garden and said he didn't care if I was the precious Uchiha heir. I could be the King of Shite and he'd still plant his boot in my bunghole, and be damned to the consequences. All because I'd dared to pluck a few roses."_

_Sasuke seemed to recall that it had been an entire rosebed, not merely a few roses. "Did you tell Father?" he whispered in admiration. The fact that his brother was grown enough to say the word arse out loud wasn't lost on him. He wondered where Shite was and what a bunghole could be. _

"_No. Father says a true man handles his own affairs. This little war is between the gardener and me, now. With you as my lieutenant, of course." _

_Here, Sasuke grinned. He was more than a little in awe of his brother taking on the burly threat of the head gardener all on his own. At twelve, Itachi was tall and strapping compared to Sasuke's six years, a fact that went a long way toward furthering the younger boy's hero worship. "Of course I'm your lieutenant. I'll always guard your back," he said faithfully. "I just don't see why _I_ have to carry everything."_

_Itachi peered carefully at the stretch of land they had to cover once more. "Seems clear. Mason should be down at the greenhouse by now anyway, tending mother's precious roses. Let's go. Keep up this time. And mind those fish guts. They're too dear for you to go spilling them in the grass."_

_Sasuke didn't need telling twice. Cook actually had taken a swing at Itachi for disrupting her kitchen, for which his brother had deliberately upset her soup pot. With the beginnings of that evening's soup still in it, no less. Such a hullabaloo had been raised! Cook chasing Itachi round the enormous table while Itachi himself shouted at Sasuke to get the fish guts while he had the chance. They'd made off with their prize to the sound of her shrieks all but deafening them. _

_The carriage house loomed ahead of them, behind a hedge that hid them from view until they were practically on top of the thing. Itachi did a careful circuit around the structure. "There's no one," he said. He beckoned his struggling little brother with a wave. _

_-oOo-_

_The rooms over the carriage house were occupied by the coachmen and driver, but Itachi said Mason had recently taken to staying there as well. "You ask me, he takes far too much interest in Perkins," Itachi had said some weeks ago. "Wonder what that's about." Sasuke had no idea. Perkins was their driver. A small man of delicate build and kind brown eyes. Regardless to what it was about, it seemed his brother was right. As usual. He stood by and watched as Itachi went to the closet and withdrew several items of clothing that, if their size was anything to go by, could only belong to Mason. _

"_Must we dirty Perkins' clothes too?" Sasuke asked. He liked the man. There was always a sweet or some other treat in his pocket for him._

"_That _would_ be a shame, wouldn't it? The original mission was to dirty everything in these rooms, but I think we'll stick to these rags here."_

_The coats and trousers, while common garb, were far from rags. Sasuke looked at them solemnly._

"_Right then, Lieutenant," Itachi said formally. "Let's start with the hay."_

_Sasuke brought forth the sack he'd slung crosswise over his small body. It was stuffed with hay soaked in horse urine, a weapon he himself had been sent into the stable to retrieve. He aided his brother now in stuffing all the pockets with it, followed by the reeking fish guts. Itachi finished off the result by liberally pouring the contents of their chamber pot –contents so toxic they'd been forced to seal them in an appropriately named Mason jar- over the ruined garments. He carefully hung them in the closet again, after instructing Sasuke to move the clothes belonging to Perkins and the others to the second closet._

_After, they washed up in the small sink in the kitchen using the harsh lye soap they found. They scrubbed their hands until they were nearly raw. "That ought to do it," Itachi said importantly, shaking his hands dry. Sasuke mimicked him. "Let's go. We'll beat a hasty retreat to the fort while we await Mason's reply to this latest sally." _

"_He might take a switch to _both_ of us." Sasuke waited while Itachi peered outside from the window._

"_Not likely. You're too young. And even if he tried, I would never let that happen. Come on." _

_-oOo-_

_It was a beautiful day in the height of summer. Swollen with their sense of accomplishment, Itachi led the way over their lush lawns and manicured flowerbeds to the northern edge of the property. Such a journey over so many acres was usually made by horse, but they didn't want to risk being seen by any of the other servants, or worse, Mason himself. They were young and healthy, and ran with the sun shining overhead and the fragrant air carrying their laughter ahead of them. By the time they reached the wooded portion of the estate they were flushed with exertion._

_Itachi cast a critical eye over his brother as they stopped beneath their large walnut tree. Sasuke was perspiring heavily, chest heaving, but his dark eyes were bright with life, and his cheeks rosy from their run. "Are you well, Lieutenant?"_

"_I am!" Sasuke gazed up at him. Itachi's windswept hair and darkly handsome face made him feel as though he would always be well so long as his brother was near him. "Are you?"_

"_A lieutenant doesn't ask such things of his general. A general is always well. That's why he's the general." Itachi gave a glance at their surroundings, checking for enemy spies, before looking up at the tree behind them. "I'll go in first."_

_The tree house was one Itachi had built on his own for the most part, with help from a carpenter his father had kept on hand for some years. As such, it was Itachi's pride and joy. He was generous in stating that the tree house belonged to Sasuke too, but Itachi always entered first, if they were together, and got to decide what manner of fun they would have in it on a given day._

_Sasuke scrambled up once his brother was inside. He was challenged at the entrance. "Password?" Itachi said._

"Sharingan."

_The curtain was held aside for him._

"_Today," Itachi said, once they were settled, "we will be noble samurai to the evil _daimyo_. We are hired by a rival _daimyo_ to overthrow our master…"_

_Sasuke listened in wide-eyed absorption, his chin propped on his hands. Itachi's stories were always the best, made more so by his expressive eyes and dramatic delivery. Stories by Mother or their governess paled in comparison. After the story would come the fun. The part where they actually played at being the characters Itachi had brought to life with his words._

_Sometimes they didn't even do the stories. There were times he and Itachi would just lay on the floor and gaze up at the branches visible through the window or through gaps in the planks comprising the roof. Sometimes they read. Sometimes, if the walnuts were ready, they reached through the window and plucked them right off the tree. Whole afternoons were spent gathering them by the basketful, so that cook could crack them with her hammer and let them dry out. Itachi said they were black walnuts, and sure enough their hands had been stained for weeks the one time they'd tried cracking the impossible things themselves. Father had taken his cane to them both, saying neither of them were fit to be shown in public without gloves. After, Itachi had congratulated him on withstanding his first caning without so much as a sniffle, which had made the pain he'd been trying not to voice worth it. _

_He always had fun with Itachi. But the stories were the best. _

"_You're the best big brother in the world," he said quietly._

_Itachi colored in embarrassment. "You're not supposed to interrupt me," he scowled. Then he grinned. One of the grins that, even at the tender age of twelve, were rare things. "Your opinion lacks credibility, considering that I'm your _only_ brother…but I love you too." He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his brother's nose, an action even more rare than his grins. _

_Sasuke wrinkled his nose, but laughed. Itachi, hearing it and seeing the answering love in his brother's face, felt his insides clench. He always felt unbearably close to his brother during these play sessions. He made it a point to play with his brother often, not wanting him to feel the loneliness he himself had felt during the first six years of his life. It wasn't until the past couple of years that Sasuke had been let out of the nursery to play with him, and he was always charged with making sure Sasuke came to no harm. He took that responsibility seriously. Maybe it was this, or maybe it was because he had no other sibling, but when they played, and especially when Sasuke looked at him as he was doing now, Itachi felt a kinship so strong with him it was as though they were one person. It made him uncomfortable, but he cherished the feeling. He didn't get love from either of his parents. He supposed that was another reason he took care to spend time with Sasuke; his little brother didn't get much love from their parents either._

"_Well?" Sasuke said when the silence stretched out. "What happens next?"_

_Itachi blinked. "Right, then. Where was I? Oh yes…"_

* * *

><p>Itachi woke face down in his lumpy bed. For several moments he remained in the dream that was more memory than dream, and cherished the feeling of carefree youth.<p>

This wasn't the first such dream he'd had this week, and he wondered why. Perhaps it was stress. His mind trying to go back to a simpler time in his life. There'd been no responsibilities beyond keeping his grades up, keeping Sasuke safe, and conducting himself with the proper deportment whenever around his parents. He distinctly remembered being able to be himself around Sasuke, back when they'd been very young. Back before his place in society demanded he give up so much of who he was.

The memory of Sasuke's toothless smile made his heart ache. His brother had been a faithful shadow, always willing to go along with whatever his older brother suggested, no matter the danger. Sasuke had looked up to him. All but worshiped the ground Itachi walked on. These memories, coupled with the persistent belief that Sasuke could very well be dead, filled his eyes with hot, stinging tears. _Well, there's one thing to be grateful for. If he is gone, I have nothing else to lose. Madara will have no hold over me. And if he isn't…if by some grace he's managed to survive, he will have received my letter. He'll mind me and stay away until I've put things right. _

But he had to wonder. Sasuke had been even more rebellious once he'd grown up than he himself had been. It wasn't too big a stretch to think Sasuke could have disregarded his warning. Then he remembered Naruto and Gaara, and breathed easier. They would certainly keep him from doing anything rash. He wondered, too, what sort of person he himself would be now if he'd grown up differently. If he could ever recapture the sense of freedom he'd had as a boy. Probably not, he decided. Besides, he liked his life. He liked his place in it, and had recently come to the realization that he needed to be more controlled, not less so.

He lay there some minutes more, letting the memory of Sasuke distract him from the present, but the sounds and smells of his surroundings made holding on to the dream difficult. It faded, and he sighed.

The boarding house was little better than a cave in Itachi's estimation. No running water. The bathroom an antiquated outhouse behind the house itself. And the landlady a slovenly creature of blatantly carnal appetites. She rented her stingy rooms to her male clients for free, provided they paid with their bodies. This practice of female property owners soliciting men for physical payment was an epidemic, it seemed. One Itachi was most keen to avoid, but which he gave due consideration for the simple fact that he was now out of money and had no prospects for more. It was the rusty protest of bed springs, the landlady's high-pitched squeals, and her lover's low grunts that had woken him from his dream. Sounds that were all coming from the other side of his bedroom wall, and which he could no longer ignore.

He had Neji's thousand dollars safely tucked into the sole of his shoe. A perverse part of him took pleasure in treading on the money; it was like treading on Neji with every step he took. Practically, though, he kept the money there because it was the one place he could be sure it wouldn't be stolen. He intended to give every dollar back to the man, with interest, as soon as this mess was over. Until then, he simply refused to use Neji's crumbs. It would be like…forgiving him. Or admitting he needed him still, neither of which would ever happen again. If he could wipe the man and the time he'd spent with him from his mind entirely he would gladly have done so. He would settle for safe-guarding the money, and flinging it in Neji's face when next he saw him.

_No. I will be a gentleman, and hand him his money in a respectful manner. I will even go so far as to thank him. _With that thought, he finally swung his legs out of bed and braced himself for the day ahead.

-oOo-

The landlady was just stumbling out of the room next to his by the time he'd dressed and gone into the hall. She smiled at him. The way her clumsily applied make-up emphasized her missing teeth made Itachi swallow. "Yer three days behind in rent," she slurred. Her English accent grated on his ears.

"I will pay you as soon as I can-" he backed up until he was against the wall as she wove her way to him and leaned against his body.

"The onliest reason I'm still feeding yer high and mighty backside is because of this." She reached up and yanked his ponytail. "Finest piece of arse I seen in a year, you are." Her hand made a quick detour down the front of his greatcoat, where it slipped between the folds and grabbed his crotch. "And this here be the finest cock, I'll warrant." Itachi grit his teeth as a wave of hot rage threatened to overwhelm his sense. Her eyes were bleary but sharp as she measured his tight-lipped glare. "I want me money come morn or you'll be the one making me sing fer joy." With that she made her way down the hall, leaving Itachi to relax his stiff posture with a shudder of disgust.

-oOo-

Breakfast would no doubt be the tasteless gruel she served every morning. He decided to skip it, and made his way out of the house. He stopped on the dilapidated porch to wrap his scarf more securely, and took in the crisp morning.

This was his tenth day in Clinton. As far as he could surmise, he was no closer to finding the legacy than he had been upon riding into the city. _If I knew where to look, at least… _But this was a futile thought, one he had more and more often of late.

He'd ridden in on a horse as exhausted as he was. The stable took most of what little money he'd had left, while the boarding house had taken the rest. He'd been able to pay for a week, no more. He was three days in debt to the landlady, and without a bank note of his own to pay her with. It was at these times he considered using Neji's money. _No. One more day. Today. If I do not find something today, then I will make a decision about the landlady one way or another. _

Each and every day he combed the town, but he had no idea what to look for or who to ask for assistance. The name Uchiha Fugaku meant nothing to the sheriff, and no property was listed under that name. Of course he recalled the bill of sale he and Inoichi had come across, but the telegram he'd drafted to him had been sent two days after he'd arrived, with no reply yet. He was strongly considering sending another…if he could find fare for even that much.

Try as he might, he could recall no address for the house listed in that record. Now that he was here in Clinton, the enormity of this oversight often struck him dumb with wonder. There had to have been an address on the bill. He was certain that he and Inoichi both must have seen one. They simply hadn't taken note of it because they'd been of the belief that they would shortly be packing properly and setting off on an organized journey. The bill would have come with them. Instead, Akatsuki had attacked, he'd barely escaped with his life, and all his subsequent time on the run had been occupied with-

_But that is no excuse, _he chided himself furiously_. _Days, _weeks_, he'd been on the road and he could not have thought to send a telegram to Inoichi sooner? The shame of such stupidity was nearly insupportable. To step into Clinton, stable his horse, settle his belongings in his room at the boarding house, and only _then_ realize he had no address was beyond belief. Contemptible, even. _And that is why you're in this predicament. Because evidently a goat has more sense than you._

There were times when he didn't berate himself. Times when he realized that what was done was done. Now what he needed was to focus. To concentrate his efforts on finding that house, if he could, or someone who'd known his father. With this thought firmly in mind, Itachi stepped from the porch and into the busy street.

* * *

><p><em>She was in an out of consciousness that first night. Bee had run with her to the docks, she presumed, because one of her conscious moments had been the unsteady feel of him stepping into a rowboat. She'd lost it again with the sensation of ocean spray on her face. She'd woken twice more, once when Bee shouted at someone to help him, and another time to find some strange boy carrying her somewhere.<em>

_That was a bad moment. She'd been terrified at finding herself in the thin but strong arms of someone her color, had been sure she'd been recaptured somehow. Her flailing, shrieking confusion had scared the boy so that he dropped her. Ei had come stumping along, demanding to know what had happened, but then Bee had loomed over her, scooped her up, and carried her away from all the staring eyes._

_To her shame, Bee had bathed her. She remembered that, if hazily. One of her wakeful moments had been to find herself waist deep in a tub of hot water, her body supported on one of his massive arms, while his other hand ran a soapy cloth over her. A dark woman and the boy/man stood over her as well. And then she was on something soft, her limbs and face being tended to by the dark woman, who spread something pungent on her injuries. She recalled being held on Bee's lap again, this time while he brought a spoonful of steaming broth to her lips. The first mouthful of real food kept her awake long enough to swallow a few more spoonfuls, but she was so tired. Drained of all life by the events of the past three months._

_Whenever Bee was with her, she was content. Not that she was awake often enough to appreciate his company. She slept a great deal, but her waking moments seemed to feature him either bathing or dressing her. He often fed her with his own hands. The dark woman and the boy didn't make an appearance again. Sometimes she woke to find herself cradled by Bee, sometimes in the bed, sometimes on the chair or even on the floor. He would be rocking back and forth, his arms tight abut her, while he whispered, "Just a dream. Only a dream. This is real. This ship, this cabin, me. You're here, safe from them." Or sometimes she woke to hear him reading by her bedside. Or to find him feeding her again, frustration and worry all over his face. Once or twice it was to find both Bee and his brother staring down at her. Bee's brother was always frowning. _

_It was a pleasant feeling, sleeping so much. She felt weightless. And whenever she wasn't sleeping it seemed her eyes saw nothing around her but open sky, or endless sea. She woke less and less frequently, saw and heard Bee less and less. The sea and sky were so attractive, so peaceful. They stretched on and on until they came together on the horizon. It seemed to her that if she could just reach that meeting place so far in the distance then all her troubles would cease. She wouldn't need to avoid thoughts of her mother, or her captivity. The thoughts themselves would cease to have meaning. They would be stripped from her. She would be clean, made new…if only she could touch the place where sky and sea met. As time wore on, and it seemed she stopped waking at last and lived every day with the sea and sky, she strained for it. Reached for that line of meeting with all her mind, all her will. _

_And it was happening, she realized with a thrill of triumph. Here was something she wanted that she was getting. She was moving toward that line abnormally fast, rushing between sea and sky like wind. Her hand was outstretched, ready to grab that elusive union of water and air, and she knew that once she did she would be safe and well for all of time. She had only to touch that magical place…she was nearly there, her fingers so close to that silvery line…_

-oOo-

Pain exploded through her body at contact with the line. It felt as though she'd been hurled against a wall. She sucked in air to scream and ended up choking, swallowing something other than air. White and blue and shimmering silver were all around her, masked by the floating tendrils of her hair. Her head broke free of this madness and a lungful or air made it past her retching and coughing, only for her to feel a rough hand land on her head and shove her under again.

She was in water. And just now the sea was not a glittering expanse of blue, welcome and inviting. It was a weapon being used against her, drowning her as that hand closed in her hair and held her under until she thought her lungs would burst. No matter how she kicked and punched, the water swallowed the strength of her movements. Screams were trapped in her throat, escaping in tiny bubbles from her nose as she twisted and fought. Her attacker remained out of sight just behind her, but she could feel the tantalizing brush of her heels against his body. It was a man, of that she was sure. The hand he had in her hair was in turn gripped by her own hands, but nothing she did could pry those steely fingers open.

"_Live_, damn you!"

This shout was given right into her face as she was finally yanked up for air. She answered with a scream that was no more than her vomiting up what seemed like the entire ocean. Another attempt to voice her outrage was met with the same result. Blinded by the mass of her hair plastered to her face, she was hauled through the water in this manner, vomiting and seething with fury.

Whoever had her was strong enough to carry her like a sack of potatoes as he climbed up the side of a ship. She was thrown over the top edge to the floor, or deck as she thought it was called, and left to shiver and writhe in her misery as she continued to bring up salt water. She did this on hands and knees, her hair straggling around her. She could hear her murderer climbing aboard. He stood behind her, streaming water and watching her shame, no doubt.

There was something a foot to her right. She had no idea what it was, but it was metal and looked sharp. Without pausing to catch her breath, she closed her hand around it, pushed to her feet, and swung it round at where she judged her attacker to be.

It was Bee. He caught the harpoon with one hand and slapped her hard with the other, sending her spinning. For a wonder she didn't go down, but launched her frail weight at him and beat at his face and shoulders with her bony fists.

"Better," he said, handing the harpoon to someone. "Much better." He caught her hands in one of his own and drew her close, brushing her hair away from her face. Her eyes were flashing with the promise of vengeance. A far cry from the dreamy indifference he'd been seeing for the past week. Something in his chest unknotted. The tension he'd been holding unraveled. "Welcome back to us."

"Be damned!" she snarled. "If you ever hit me again I will _kill_ you."

"Hmph," Ei grunted. "Got spirit, dat one."

Ino belatedly realized she had an audience. "Let go of me."

Bee released her. _I suppose now I know how she survived captivity, _he thought_. She's got a hell of a lot more than just spirit. _

She was shocked to find that she couldn't stand. Her legs buckled beneath her as if devoid of bones. She sat in angry bewilderment, refusing to look at the crowd of people she could sense around her, until Bee wordlessly reached down and pulled her back up. He helped her walk to a hole in the deck, where she saw a ladder leading below. Her clumsy descent further illustrated how weak she was.

-oOo-

The cabin was small. Simply furnished. There was a bed made with a luxurious white quilt edged in blue. A tall chest of drawers. A trunk and a tiny bookcase stuffed with books and rolled papers. Sunlight streamed in through a small, circular window that was currently open.

Bee led her to a small desk she'd failed to notice, and handed her into the chair behind it. As if summoned by some voiceless command, a tallish youth came in bearing a tray heaped with food. She recognized him from some dream when he glanced at her, but the smell of food hit her nose, hit her body, with as much force as she'd hit the water so recently. She had questions, many of them quite urgent to her, but her hands were reaching for the bread and cheese and stuffing them into her mouth before she could think to ask them.

The boy left. Bee stood on the other side of the desk, shoulder propped against the wall, and folded his arms as he watched her. He seemed to itemize each thing she ate, each swallow of wine. The wine was her undoing. Half the flask gone and she began to feel exceedingly dizzy. And then she was too full to eat anymore, but she couldn't seem to make herself stop. It was _food_. Whole, clean food. She continued to chew until Bee reached forward and gently removed the tray. She didn't protest.

He set it on the floor. While she sat drained of all strength, nearly swooning again from the amount she'd eaten, he came and perched one hip on the edge of the desk, not far from her elbow.

"What happened to me," she muttered.

"What do you remember?"

"Nothing." No, that wasn't true. "Pieces. Dreams. My mother-" The thought was a red-hot poker to her chest, spearing her with pain that made her catch her breath. "I…I don't know," she whispered. She didn't want to know.

He told her, as simply and as kindly as he could. Much of it was just words to her. She had no memory of anything but him and the desire to sleep.

"You wouldn't let anyone near you," he finished by saying. "You screamed and fought so bad for anyone but me that I took to caring for you myself. Bathed you. Dressed you. Sewed your wounds whenever you broke them open. You had night terrors. Bad ones. You'd wake shrieking and fighting in the night so often that I thought it better if I just stayed with you. You seemed to sleep better that way. But you wouldn't eat. Had to force the food in you. You kept sleeping. More and more. I would bring you up top, let you feel the sun, hoping maybe this would bring you back. You seemed happy when you were outside. But you also slept more. And then finally I couldn't rouse you. You stopped eating completely, and I tossed you in the water. To wake you."

She remembered the nights. Some of them. Waking in a panic, sure the darkness meant she was in the cellar again, only to feel his large bulk beside her, murmuring comforting words. His enormous hands stroking her hair or her back until she fell asleep again.

Ino slid her eyes sideways and looked him up and down. He had on nothing but a pair of shockingly short, thin…trousers…she supposed they were. They came to mid-thigh on him. And seeing as this garment was soaked to a state of transparency, everything the trousers were supposed to hide was visible. She could clearly see the outline of his genitals, as well as the springy hair surrounding them. She seemed to recall that coming upon such a sight before her abduction would have sent her into a dead faint. Now all she felt was a detached realization that her captors had been small men in more ways than one. She took in the brown expanse of his musculature, the way water still dripped from him, and felt her detachment give rise to a spark of indignation.

It did not sit well with her that this _man_ had enjoyed such personal contact with her. She wanted to hate all men, everywhere, for the rest of time, but somehow she couldn't quite make herself do that with Bee. For one thing, he did not fit any idea of manhood that she possessed. A man was an impeccably groomed, mannerly, and deferential pillar of authority. Someone who acceded to the whims of women, who paid them every respect. Who went out of their way to keep them comfortable. They sheltered women from the harshness of life, kept them surrounded by pretty things, and expected pretty things from them in return. Pretty words, pretty glances…delicate. Men of her acquaintance fostered the delicate lifestyle of the wealthy in every way. Her father was such a man. And her father had let her be taken. Had been unable to stop her abduction. She'd been snatched right out of his arms. He would never be able to make her feel safe again.

The men she'd come to know in captivity were nothing like that, though. They were small, conniving, lecherous specimens that would forever put an aversion to the male species in her belly. She could not imagine ever being able to so much as look at a man, much less speak to one.

But Bee was like neither of these. He was not a refined paragon of decorum and respect, nor was he a short, wiry instrument of violence. He was certainly capable of violence, great violence she knew, but he quite emphatically broke every mold for masculinity that she was familiar with. He was _too_ masculine. He dwarfed other men with his earthy presence, his disregard for modesty or even simple propriety, and his unabashed practicality: She'd fought everyone else, so he'd bathed her himself; she'd given up on life, so he'd thrown her into the ocean. No, she could think of no other man who would have done these things or gone to such lengths.

_And what would _he_ have done if someone tried to take me from his arms? I wouldn't have been taken, that's for certain. _The thought was another reason why she couldn't seem to hate him. He just wasn't like any man she knew.

"I owe you my life," she realized.

Bee said nothing.

She raised her eyes to his at last, looking at his face for what seemed like the first time since her rescue. The angle of light was behind him, but she could see now that his eyes _had_ no precise color. They seemed grey, then green, then brown, then some odd mixture of all three with a hint of blue thrown in. Very clear eyes that didn't blink. They were judging her. Waiting to see if she was really returned or if she would lapse back into her dreams.

It was a question she would have liked the answer to herself. She didn't know. And he could see that. She lowered her eyes to the desk. Bee left her alone when she began to cry.

* * *

><p>Fishkill, though absent of Itachi, nevertheless turned out to be a revelation. Neji led them to the precise location he'd stayed in, and asked for the man he'd been traveling with. The proprietor had taken one look at him and begun shouting and bellowing. Something about a room destroyed, and money owed, and many other things. Naruto thought it the height of funny when wicked practices were mentioned.<p>

Sasuke stepped forward, and the proprietor was silent at last. His astute eyes recognized gentry, it seemed.

"The man we're looking for is my brother," Sasuke said. "If you have news of him, do be kind enough to tell us. We are pressed for time."

The proprietor could see the resemblance. This one was taller, younger, and the eyes were a bit different, but he bore a striking similarity to that little one who'd been in his establishment. Mostly in carriage and facial expression. His eyes slid to the big one, where he stood behind this brother, to the blond mountain beside him, and to the tall, somehow unnatural woman beside _him_. The only safe one of the party looked to be a young girl who stood by the unnatural woman with a pleasant look of interest on her face. "Follow me," he said.

They all traipsed behind him up the stairs, down the hall, and to the room that he'd had to close for business.

"Christ in heaven," the brother murmured behind his hand. The other four merely stared.

"When you see your brother, tell him I'm looking for him too," the proprietor said. He was over his fear of the man, now that he was gone. "He owes me a good hundred dollars for this mess. Now, then. I count five of you. How many rooms will you be needing?"

Neji shouldered his way forward. The proprietor cringed backward, but all Neji did was count out a number of bills. These he stuffed into the proprietor's sweaty hand. "None. Naruto, Hinata, we're leaving."

They stayed the night in a hotel not far from the railroad. They caught the train the next morning, and pulled away from Fishkill with their own separate thoughts.

-oOo-

Milly, acting as lady's maid, saw to it that her mistress had everything she could want, but her attendance went ignored. She retreated to a seat on the far side of the train, where Lady Senpai pointed with her odd fan, and sat staring out the window.

The long-haired man, the one she'd learned was Lady Senpai's cousin and called Neji, dropped down in the seat beside her. "Has Lady Senpai need of me?" she asked hopefully.

Neji stared at her with hooded eyes, his face devoid of expression. "Right. She asked me to explain a few things to you, since Sasuke refused, but let me start by saying that her name isn't Senpai. It's a title. It can roughly be translated to mean she is your superior. You may call her Senpai by itself, or Lady Hinata as is her name, but if I hear one more Lady Senpai out of you, I will tear the tongue from your head. Do you understand me thus far, Milly?"

Quite frightened of this cold-eyed man, Milly nodded quickly.

"Good. Second. Hinata doesn't need a lady's maid. What she needs is someone to be her go-between, her contact with the English-speaking world. Someone native to this country, who thinks like the people here and knows how to move about in this society without causing alarm. If she has need to travel on her own, you will accompany her and assist her in all dealings with American people."

"Oh. I-"

"Third. You are to begin learning Japanese as soon as possible so that you can better serve my cousin. Her orders."

"How am I to-"

"Last. You will not receive payment. Not in the manner you explained to Hinata. She heard your account of a lady's maid's wages, and calculated that the value of the pin she gave you is equal to three years' pay. You will receive nothing else. If she consents to give you anything, it will be a gift, and cherished by you as such. You will show her every gratitude and respect upon receipt of any such gift. Loyalty is paramount. This is no arrangement such as you're used to here, where you can leave your employer when you want if you're dissatisfied." Neji lowered his voice. "You've seen her kill. She has given you an item, which you accepted, which in my culture means you consent to be Hinata's servant for the rest of your days. You do not leave. You do not switch loyalties for a higher pay. You do not express dissatisfaction and take it upon yourself to quit. There _is_ no quitting. You belong to her, and that's final. If you're unhappy, or want to end your service, she will kill you. Do you have questions?"

"I…cannot give back the pin in exchange for freedom?"

"Not unless you feel the pin is worth your life. The insult of returning it would be the end of you."

Milly's mouth was open in horror behind her hands. Neji didn't blink, staring at her with that same bland expression. "She wouldn't," Milly squeaked. "Oh, she wouldn't! She killed Mrs. Millhouse because she was annoying her, but I'm good! I do everything for her and I'm nice, and I don't talk a lot the way Mrs. Millhouse did-"

"This isn't some goodwife you're dealing with," Neji snapped in an undertone. "Women like Hinata do murder as a matter of course. _I_ have killed when the need arose, and I can tell you now that death is not viewed with the same aversion in my country as it is here. She _will_ send you Onward if you fail her now, or if she feels she will be better served by your death than your life, and there isn't a soul who will stop her or protect you."

"But she's your cousin!"

"You knew what she was capable of when you signed on with her," Neji said, failing to see the relevance of Milly's statement. "I'm only to make sure you fully understand your position." He waited, looking at her expectantly.

Milly needed several long moments to adjust her thoughts to the realization that she could not milk this opportunity for riches and adventure. She was caught like a fish in a net. Freedom would mean her death. She looked across the car, to where Hinata was sitting alone, and found the woman looking back at her over the top of her fan. The same cold, unfeeling eyes. She looked back at Neji, who seemed to be waiting for something from her.

"I understand." She swallowed. "Will you…will you teach me some Japanese now, please?"

This seemed to be the right thing to say; Neji gave an approving nod and began with small words.

-oOo-

Sasuke dozed. He had a dream about his childhood, about Itachi, and woke when he felt the seat beside him shake. It was Naruto, who'd moved from the opposite seat he'd been occupying, so that Neji could have it. Naruto slung an arm around Sasuke's shoulders, to which he protested.

Neji snorted amusement at them both. "Relax. There's hardly anyone in this car."

"That doesn't mean I want to be at the center of gossip." He shrugged Naruto's arm off. Neji was staring at him. "What."

"I was wondering something. About your brother."

"And that is?" He sat up straighter, pulling his lap robe higher on his legs.

"You saw that room. It was destroyed. I'm coming to understand that your brother regularly flies into these rages when he's thwarted from something. I saw it in the manor as well. And now twice in Fishkill. Has he always been so childish?"

"_Childish?_"

"Throwing a tantrum when he doesn't get something seems like childish behavior to me," Neji shrugged. But there was a smile in the corner of his mouth.

Sasuke thought about his answer carefully. Since leaving the innkeeper's murder behind, he'd gotten some of the tale of what had happened between Neji and his brother from Naruto. It was enough to swell his heart, that his brother had found love, but it also disturbed him to think of the volatile quality of it. If it could send Neji running, and his brother into an episode -the aftermath of which he'd seen in Fishkill- there was no telling what it had done to Itachi. Still, learning what his brother felt for Neji went a long way toward diffusing some of his anger toward the Hyuuga. He just didn't want Itachi to suffer as he himself had done when Naruto had left him in Panama. For this reason, he was a touch reserved around Neji. "My brother has never been childish. Not even when he _was_ a child."

"Aren't you prejudiced in his favor?" Neji asked. "What was he like, if you don't mind me asking?"

Sasuke looked at the passing countryside. He remembered his dream of a few moments ago and smiled. "He used to play with me."

"_Play?_" Neji leaned forward in shock, his brows coming together. "You're lying."

"I'm not. It wasn't the wild, screaming play of most children, but it _was_ playing. Itachi's way of playing. It was always structured, with a specific purpose or goal. Fraught with the sense of maturity I think he was born with, but it was definitely playing. I never felt any lack in our fun, I can tell you that. We had a tree house he'd built, and we would play in it whenever we had a chance to."

"I remember you mentioning that," Naruto said.

"But he always got whatever he wanted, didn't he?" Neji pressed. "As a child?"

"I don't know how to answer that. Itachi never expressed wants the way…the way I did, for instance. I always wanted something. My own horse. A new suit. Less time studying. Itachi never expressed things of that nature. He was either content with what he had, or else went out and got what he wanted for himself."

"Well he's certainly a jealous bastard," Neji said after some thought. "Insanely so."

Sasuke had to laugh. "Itachi is never jealous of anyone or anything. Envy is foreign to him. He is secure in his knowledge of who he is and what he has."

"Not jealous? Not _jealous?_" Neji made a rude sound of disbelief. "Did you see that room? He did that because he thought I was sleeping with another man!"

Sasuke and Naruto nervously glanced about the car. "Oy. Keep your voice down," Naruto said.

"You can't tell me your brother's not jealous," Neji went on, albeit in a lower tone. "I've never seen a more jealous individual. A woman scorned has _nothing_ on him. And I hadn't even been with anyone. Jealous streak a mile wide."

Sasuke looked at Neji for a long time. "I'm glad my brother found love, though I'm not happy if this break is hurting him. But on further reflection I'm also glad you left him. For you to have worked for him for so long, and then traveled with him, and still know so little about him is absurd. Better he finds love with someone who at least understands him. Very well, you've known him a year. I've known him 23 years. Who do you think is right?"

Neji shrugged. "The room speaks for itself."

Sasuke returned to staring out the window. They were days outside of Fishkill, though still several more days away from their final destination. It was a relief to be traveling in a civilized manner again, within a heated car, and with servers to bring tea whenever one desired it.

Naruto studied the pensive look on Sasuke's face. "What is it?"

"Itachi's _not_ a jealous person, but…" Sasuke frowned.

"But what?" Neji leaned closer still. So did Naruto.

"He's…possessive. Now that I think on it, he's incredibly possessive. Once…" Sasuke glanced at them self-consciously.

"Well don't stop there," Neji said, scooting to the very edge of his seat. As he was facing Sasuke and Naruto, this put his face mere inches from theirs. "Once, what?"

Sasuke reddened. "Once he nearly killed me. For touching something that belonged to him. It was, oh…13 or 14 years ago. I was eight years, I believe. Father had just come back from a lengthy trip to Japan. Itachi had to have been 14 or so. Anyway, Father brought back gifts. He must have known a little of our games, because he gave Itachi an authentic, antique blade called a _kunai_. Told him it had been in the Uchiha family for generations. There used to be a complete set, along with real _shuriken, _but that was all Father could get. Itachi cherished that thing. Polished it daily. Told me I was no longer allowed in his room, much less allowed to touch it. Oh, but I coveted it. Father gave me a gift too, but I wanted the _kunai_. I thought if I could just touch it…"

"Go on," Naruto urged, eyes wide.

"Well…one day I did. Itachi went out to the city with Father, and I snuck into his room. He had the _kunai _mounted on a small, custom made stand. I remember how it gleamed in the sunlight. Like quicksilver. And when I lifted it, it was much heavier than I thought it would be. A solid weight." Sasuke curled the fingers of one hand, as if feeling the weight at that moment. "I must have sat there with it for a long time, imagining wars fought and won with it. Caressing it. Wishing it was mine. I didn't hear a thing. And I didn't know Itachi had come up behind me and clouted me on one ear until my vision cleared. By then he was giving me the beating of my life. Only my father ever beat me worse, but Itachi…he wouldn't stop no matter how I screamed, how I pleaded, or how much I begged. And he was silent. I remember that, how pinched his face was with fury, but how utterly quiet he was throughout the whole thing. By the time servants ran to fetch Father, I was choking on my own blood. Father pulled him off of me…I don't remember much after that. I think I was unconscious. I know father summoned the doctor. My face was a study in bruises for weeks. Mother was quite incensed. She took his _kunai_, I believe."

"And you _forgave_ him?" Naruto asked in shock. "I wouldn't have done."

"Oh, he was the soul of contrition afterward. Once his 'blood had cooled' my father said. Itachi spent the entire time I was recovering bringing me ice-creams, and odd toys he bought with his own money. I don't think I ever received so many hugs, or had anyone read to me so often as in those weeks. He swore he would never touch me in anger again, but I never forgot. So yes, Itachi may not be jealous, but he most definitely is possessive."

Neji blinked in stupefaction. "How in the name of God is that different from jealousy?"

Naruto watched as Sasuke only shook his head, frowning out the window again, before turning his attention to Neji. "You seem awfully interested in Itachi, considering how set against coming to his aid you were. Care to explain _that_?"

"No. And I'm not aiding him. I'm here for my cousin."

Naruto held in his snort. Barely. His knowing eyes, however, said everything.

Seeing the smug look, Neji got up with a curse and moved to a seat by himself, at the far end of the car.

-oOo-

For awhile he stared at the passing countryside, mind blank, but he soon lost himself in thought.

If the truth were known, he'd already surmised that Itachi was possessive. The morning after their last night together. And he didn't need the story to illustrate to what extent. Itachi's attachment to him was, after all, why he'd left the man. _But is that the real reason? Why don't you take a good hard look at yourself. _

He didn't want to. It seemed that was all he'd done since he'd kissed Itachi over that lunch. Introspection was not something he ever did, for the simple fact that the black morass of his most inner self did not bear contemplation. There were scars in him, ugly growths. Beneath his amiable exterior, he was twisted. Distrustful. Wary and…insecure. Neji swallowed at this realization. That he was an insecure man. That years of being told he was nothing, nothing, _nothing_ but a tool had hurt him deeply. That forcing himself to adapt to the ever-changing society of Americans had also made it easier to forget just how badly his sense of self-worth had been damaged. He had no pride in his origins, in his heritage, in anything that reminded him of the bitter, angry, hate-filled man he carried beneath his skin. That was the man his broken self had grown up to be. And the laughing, good-natured, jack-of-all-trades most people knew him as…that was the lie. His shield.

So no, he didn't want to think about that because he _never_ thought about it. All right, yes, he was a shitty person, capable of doing shitty things. He knew that. But so long as he didn't have to think about that part of himself he was fine.

_And the real reason you left a man to his own questionable defenses against a threat even your cousin is leery of? Answer that._

He was afraid, as he'd already admitted. And insecure. And a host of other things but so? If he could tell Itachi, though unintentionally, how he was afraid to love him then why couldn't he admit the reason to himself? He didn't want to be owned? Possessed? He valued his freedom? Valid reasons, maybe, but not _the_ reason. What was he afraid _of?_"

_I'm a coward, _he thought with infinite self-loathing. _And that's that._ _But Itachi would not have destroyed that room unless he'd been angry I'd left. _

This was a more pleasant line of thinking. He gladly set aside the introspection in favor of it. Yes, Itachi had been angry. Quite as angry, if not more so, than he'd been the night before. The evidence of such fury tightened Neji's balls even now. That anyone, least of all Itachi, could feel so much for _him_ of all people. To fly into such a rage when he left them… He wasn't sure if he felt pleasure at the thought now or if he was still terrified. A bit of both, maybe. Itachi wanted him. That much was clear from the room. Perhaps him leaving had hurt Itachi. If he went back to him… Now that they'd been separated, if he went back, perhaps…

It was a thought he didn't want to look at too closely. It hurt. He'd been hurting since turning his back on the man, hurting so that he could scarcely _think_. He was barely functioning. The man was in him, in his blood, a vital part of his body now, and without him he was slowly suffocating. Impossible the man might be, but with Itachi he'd at least felt alive. His poor existence –or subsistence, he should say- had at last been given meaning. The difference between life without Itachi and life with him was like the difference between a kiss on the cheek, and a night of lovemaking. His life was richer, fuller in every way with Itachi. Exciting. Unpredictable. It was _life_, where before he'd simply drifted from day to day with no direction. There'd been nothing he was attached to, nothing he wanted, nothing he needed to protect or work towards. Itachi was purpose. His goal. Hot, and wild, and pure raw feeling whenever they touched. Itachi was life.

_And he wants me. Miserable, wretched, cowardly _me_._

A smile touched his lips. He recalled wanting to know what it would be like to bed Itachi in one of his rages. Well, now he knew. It hadn't been the least bit pleasant, but he rather thought that this time would be different. _Oh, you'll be furious with me, as you have every right to be. But it will be my pleasure to bring you down from that rage. My pleasure and yours, I'll make sure of it. I'll soon have you yelling for a different reason._

The question of why he'd run was pushed to the back of his mind, where it ceased to matter. The way he did with all unpleasant aspects of his life. He settled in his seat with the smile on his face, imagining the explosive confrontation he would soon have with Itachi.

-oOo-

Hinata watched her cousin with thoughtful eyes. She knew there was only one reason he'd agreed to come with her and it was not her safety. By her insisting he come, going so far as to command him in the name of their clan, he'd been able to do what he really wanted and save face in the process. Every particle of Neji wanted to return to Itachi. And while he denied himself this, while he was in such conflict, he became useless. As they'd all witnessed in that inn. His was not a nature in the habit of denying itself what it wanted, probably why the yoke of Branch Member had affected him so deeply. All she'd done was allow him to do what he wanted without obviously contradicting the decision he'd made to stay away. A fact they were both aware of, and which they both dutifully ignored. _Perhaps he hasn't forgotten _all_ subtlety, _she thought with a sniff. _But if he is so besotted that I must lead him like one leads a pet he really is of no use to me._

* * *

><p>Madara had to clench his jaws to keep his teeth from chattering. His breath steamed from his nose, and his hands were nearly blue where he rubbed them beneath his blanket. "Is there no more wood?"<p>

Nagato, left to see to his needs in Kabuto's absence, refrained from pointing out that if there was wood it would be burning in the fireplace. "No, senpai."

"We cannot leave this place soon enough. That the banks here could be so unforgivably backward is beyond my comprehension."

"Apparently one cannot walk in with no proof of identity or property and request money," Nagato couldn't resist saying. "A pity you didn't take those things with you when you fled."

"It is," Madara agreed, missing the sarcasm. "You're certain there has been no sign of Itachi?"

Again, Nagato had to hold in what he wanted to say. "No. There hasn't. I've looked in every crack, crevice, and mouse hole this place has to offer. He's not here." Whenever Kabuto was in the house, he went out and did searches of his own. No one had heard of him or seen anyone matching his description. Uchiha Itachi had not come to Plattsburgh.

"I find that very odd," Madara muttered. "Inoichi was adamant about this place and I do not believe he was lying. I know when I'm being lied to. Could Itachi have died en route, do you think?"

"Anything is possible, senpai."

"A true saying. If only-"

There was a commotion on the front porch, followed by Kabuto crashing into the house with a small person in tow. He flung this person on the floor, practically at Madara's feet, where he immediately began whimpering.

Madara beheld a petite man with thin spectacles and very little hair. Someone who'd been taken without the benefit of coat or hat, and who likely lay shivering from cold as well as from fear. He looked up at Kabuto. "What's this?"

Kabuto was shutting the front door. He pulled down the length of wool he'd used to wrap his head and shoulders against the fresh snow falling. "This is the man who runs the postal service. It took me a while to help him remember, but he has something to tell you."

They all looked at the man, who continued to hold his hands over his face and make wounded sounds. Kabuto gave him a stiff kick to his spine. The man bleated, lowering his hands and revealing a mouthful of bloody gums.

"A-a person came into the postal house a month gone," the man slurred. "They handed me a letter. That name was on it." He fell silent, closing his lips over his toothless mouth, eyes streaming.

"What name?" Madara said slowly, standing up and going over to the man. "Tell me."

"Eee...eye….I can't pronounce it, but that one there wrote it down and I recognized it. Remembered it being a strange name."

Here, Kabuto produced a slip of paper with Itachi's name and address on it. He handed it to Madara, who took it, glanced at it, and then held it up in front of the man. "Is this the name?"

"Yes. Yes!"

"You are certain?"

"I swear on my-"

"Silence." Madara put his head back and let the relief, the pleasure, course through him. "Who gave you the letter to send?" he asked when he'd recovered. "Who?"

"A woman. Old. Short and…shriveled, like. Foreign. Didn't speak English well at all."

Madara's eyes narrowed. The excitement was now so sharp that he was nearly overcome. "Where," he asked, his voice low and unsteady, "does this person live? Was there a return address?"

The man seemed to wilt in relief at having this information too. "I remember that bit. Remember because I'd never seen the woman before. I know everyone there is to know in Plattsburgh, and she wasn't from around here. Return address was over to Clinton. That's-"

But Madara turned away. He was deep in thought, in reevaluations and planning, while Kabuto listened to the rest of the information. Nor did he turn at hearing the man suddenly plead for his life, then the unmistakable snap of breaking bone. The silence in the room was complete.

Nagato and Kabuto waited.

"Devise a route to this Clinton," Madara said. "Like as not Itachi is already there. It could even be he's been there and gone back to the city with my legacy, what with how long we've been delayed in this wretched place." He refused to entertain the idea that Itachi could be in another location entirely with the legacy. Things were finally coming together; they must be doing so for a reason.

"I believe there is a stage-" Kabuto began.

"I said see to it! Both of you, handle the preparations. Do not come back until all is in readiness." He turned around at last, and regarded them with eyes that seemed to glow in the murky lighting. "You're still here? I don't need to remind you that speed is of the essence, do I?"

Kabuto bowed immediately as he made for the door, assuring him that he didn't. Nagato was right behind him.

* * *

><p>It was too cold for the snow already on the ground to melt. It was gathered in black mounds in the roads, with brown slicks of ice covering the road itself in patches here and there. When it began snowing yet again, for the third time that week, Itachi took his very last few cents and entered a saloon.<p>

-oOo-

The place was predominantly empty. A man swaddled in a cloak from head to waist sat against the far wall in the corner, while another nursed along the contents of his glass at a table in the center of the establishment. Itachi made his way to the bar and sat. It was on the tip of his tongue to order a brandy, but he said, "Tea. Strong."

When it came, he took it to the opposite corner from the cloaked man, sat, and curved his hands around the stoneware mug. Thankfully, it was large; he'd be able to warm himself properly with it before setting out again.

Another day of fruitless wandering. He was at the end of his tether. There was no property listed under any Uchiha name, nor any name he could remember of his father's acquaintances. He could find the symbol from the letter and key nowhere. No one recognized it when he showed the key, and truthfully, who would? His father was not a social man. He would not have gone to the trouble of acquiring a house so far from his family, or hiding something in it, only to put the information out in the street for all and sundry to know about.

He could not feel more hopeless and foolish if he tried, he thought. He would have to go back to the boarding house, where he would be forced to whore himself out for food and shelter if he wanted to remain in Clinton, or he would have to concede defeat. Madara would most likely find the legacy himself, and he would be ousted once and for all from his own life. The hardships he was enduring now would become the norm. _Not even this, _he thought, swallowing the last of his tea. _I will pray for such luxuries as this. More likely I will be in the poorhouse._

That he had the means to put himself in the finest hotel Clinton had to offer sitting inside his shoe was given consideration a final time. He could order proper clothes. A fine meal. Why, he could buy _himself_ a house up here with the money Neji had left him, and still have plenty left over. If he chose. Neji had paid for everything else during their journey north, a few more things couldn't hurt. Especially since the money had been given for that very purpose.

The cloaked figure across the saloon was the only other patron now. He sat hunched, his features shadowed by his cloak. Such an odd thing to wear in this weather. A greatcoat was much more practical. Itachi wondered why the man had no drink before him as he imagined a sumptuous bed, medium rare steak, and fine wine.

It came to him that if he used Neji's money he wouldn't be able to respect himself. Self-respect was something he'd only recently reacquired, while riding in the boxcar.

Neji was dead to him. He wanted nothing to do with the man, not even his money. He would sooner whore himself to the landlady than spend a single bank note. And with that, he stood up. He would do whatever it took to stay here until he found what Madara was after.

_Even if the sender of the letter is no longer in Clinton?_

The thought hardly slowed him down. He stood in front of the saloon and shook the worst of the snowmelt from his scarf in preparation to wrapping it round his head. _I will find that legacy if it takes the rest of my life. Even if I have to wrest it back from Madara with my own hands. _He paused, though, with the scarf at chest level, thinking. If he was to be in Clinton for a lengthy period of time, it would behoove him to seek shelter elsewhere. He didn't think he could stomach too many days of Miss Pratchett's body.

He had money. The hotel was just down the block. He could see a small group of people, bundled to their eyeballs, entering it at that very moment. One of them seemed to sense his gaze and looked back at him-

"_Farnsworth_? Farnsworth Updike? My word, it's been so long! Shame on you for not contacting me in all this time, I've been _that_ worried. I'd never even have recognized you in such shabby attire if not for that hair. You-"

It took Itachi several moments to realize that this voice -speaking with the relaxed, open-vowel tones of southern gentility- was directed at him. He turned and beheld a woman of middle years, handsome, and possessed of a large parcel she held against her plump bosom. She stopped speaking mid-sentence when he turned.

"Madam?" he said. "I believe you have me confused with someone else." He turned to make his way to the boarding house, already dismissing her from his mind. If he had to pay for his room, then he'd as soon have the payment out of the way.

The woman followed him. "No, you're right about that, you're certainly not Farnsworth, but you must be his kin. His son, perhaps. Ignatius? Is that your name? Ignatius Updike? Farnsworth always did say his elder son took after him, and blind me with a bonnet if you're not the spitting image of him."

Something in this senseless babble grabbed Itachi by the throat, throttling him, so that he slowly turned to face her again. It was the name. Ignatius. A preposterous name, one he couldn't even imagine on paper, but when he did, the lettering leapt out in his mind and he put it together with the names she'd already mentioned. He was cold all over and hot all over as he looked at her with enough scrutiny to warm her cheeks. A sizzling ball of understanding burst in his mind and quickly began to expand. "Yes," he said carefully. "I'm…Ignatius."

She tapped his arm playfully. "Well of _course_ you are! I knew you couldn't be Sebastian. Farnsworth said that son took after his mother. Why ever did you make out as if you didn't recognize your own surname?"

"I-"

"Ah, don't you fret. Farnsworth was the same way, forever secretive up in that house of his. Would, ah…would your father happen to be on this trip with you? I must say, he's never brought any of his family with him before." The color in her cheeks deepened.

Itachi heard and cared about only one thing. "House?"

"You silly goose," the woman cackled. "Of course, his house! Where I imagine you're staying?"

The ball was now a frightful pressure in his head that threatened to obliterate all sense if he didn't get control of this situation soon. "Madam, I don't even know your name, but my father…Mr. Updike…has passed away. I'm here because I've inherited. His lawyer and I came across a bill of sale for a house here in Clinton, but I've suffered some mishaps along the road north and I'm afraid the bill itself was lost. I've no idea where this house is. If you would be so kind as to help me…?"

The woman wore a frown of deep sadness on her face, hand over her heart. "Dead? Oh, that is the _saddest_ news, it is. Dear me. Farnsworth had a special place in my heart. He was always such a gentleman, seeing to that old mother of his. How did it happen? He wasn't so very old. Oh dear Lord…I'm…I'm quite _overcome_." She breathed as if an attack of the vapors was imminent.

Itachi ignored this. The pressure continued to grow in his head. He blinked with difficulty, feeling himself closer and closer to the legacy. "His mother?" His father's mother had died before he and Sasuke had been born.

"Hm? Oh. Yes, his mother. He always said she didn't approve of his wife. Some big falling out or other. His mother said she wanted to be as far away from the wife as possible and so he put her up in a house here. I'm Amelia, by the way. Amelia Bentley. Widowed."

"I'm afraid my father never spoke of his mother being alive. Mrs. Bentley, this house…"

"Of course, of course." She took his arm as if they were bosom buddies, and proceeded to steer him rather forcefully up the deserted road. "My, but did he really keep your own grandmother a secret from you?"

Itachi had no idea what lies his father had told this woman, but at least he knew now why the name Uchiha had never been heard in this town. Updike indeed. "It seems he kept many secrets." He looked down at where her head came halfway up to his shoulder. "The house, if you please Mrs. Bentley. I've been forced to stay in Miss Pratchett's boarding house. If there is the slightest possibility that I can lay my head elsewhere tonight, I would be in your debt."

Mrs. Bentley looked back at him with bright brown eyes. "Miss Pratchett's is hardly a place fit for decent folk. I'll warrant you haven't had an honest meal in the Lord knows how long. If you'd like to come home with me I have a roast cooking and new potatoes. There's new baked bread as well."

_God save me from widows. _"I will be more than happy to take you up on your offer after I've seen the house. I must insist, Mrs. Bentley. It seems I have a long lost grandmother to meet."

"Precisely why you _will_ be coming home with me first. You can't think to meet the woman in those clothes. Besides which, you look gaunt as a beggar. No, you'll be coming home with me, Ignatius, and that's final."

Rather than risk souring this bit of luck he'd stumbled across, Itachi closed his mouth and dipped his head in acceptance.

"Excellent. Once I've clothed you and fed you and gotten you looking respectable again, I will take you there myself. Goodness, you look as though you haven't a pot to piss in, excuse my language. Farnsworth would have been ashamed." She took hold of his arm with renewed strength and resumed leading him away.

Neither of them saw the cloaked figure from the saloon following them.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Bentley's house was small and crowded with an assortment of things Itachi associated with spinster women: Hand-crocheted doilies on every surface, a multitude of knickknacks, endless watercolors of bland landscapes, and cats. Many meowing cats. All things that suggested long hours spent alone. "How long did you say you were widowed?" he asked, eyeing the way several cats brushed against his legs. It was an unpleasant sensation.<p>

"Oh." Mrs. Bentley removed her hat to reveal a fat topknot of dark auburn hair streaked with grey. "Many years. Married when I was 18, down in Georgia. Mr. Bentley took sick the following year, died barely a month later. I came north for a fresh start." She turned away, neatly maneuvering between her yowling pets, and disappeared down a hall.

Itachi took a careful look at the parlor he'd been left to stand in. He could indeed smell a roast cooking, a smell that made his mouth water, so she hadn't been lying about that. Nevertheless, something about the woman sharpened his senses. It could be the fact that she'd known his father, but he didn't think so. Just because Uchiha Fugaku had been a man who operated within the darker regions of society didn't mean that everyone he dealt with was the same. Nor did he think his vigilance stemmed from the change he'd so recently undergone while traveling to Clinton. _Something_ about the woman set alarm bells off in his head. Until he discovered what it was, he would keep his eyes open.

There was nothing suspicious in the parlor…until he turned and saw a small silver box sitting on an end table. Where every other table had bric-a-brac vying for space, this one small table held only the silver box, set in the center of a lace doily and polished to a mirror shine.

He heard Mrs. Bentley come into the room behind him.

The box, once he'd stepped forward and thumbed the lid open, held a key he felt sure matched one of the ones on his key ring; he'd handled his key ring often enough. He would know. The key he now looked at lay inside the red velvet interior, a secret waiting to be revealed, and Itachi felt his head heat to hazardous levels.

When he turned, he found confirmation of his suspicions in Mrs. Bentley's arms. Her eyes skipped up to his face from the silver box, where she'd no doubt seen him snooping. "Ignatius? These…these clothes should fit you."

"Yes, I'm sure they will, seeing as they belonged to my father. How long were you sleeping with him?"

Her eyes, already large, grew larger. "How dare you insinuate such a thing," she said in a small, wounded voice. " I would nev…never _think_ to…"

Itachi watched dispassionately as her eyes brimmed with tears. He let her wind down. Even gave her a few moments to try and come up with a better lie, but when she lowered her head and let the tears fall on the clothes she hugged to her chest, he decided he was at the end of his patience.

"Mrs. Bentley, my father has something in that house. Something of great value to him. And I think you know this. I think you know a great deal because I don't think that old woman you mentioned was his mother. I think she's there to watch over whatever my father put there. And you've been set to watch over _her_. Stop me when I'm wrong. Shall I continue? Very well. My father wouldn't have left just anyone with such a task. It would have to have been someone he trusted. Someone who would see to his interests here while he was away. Who wouldn't shirk their duties during the interminable time between his visits. Now. I'm certainly no expert on human behavior, but it seems to me the simplest way to cultivate such loyalty –as well as gauge just how much he could trust someone- would be to bed them. Often. I can see that my father has nurtured a relationship with you, just as I can see you have a box identical to the one given to my mother. The day my mother received her box was the day I received a certain gift as well. From Japan. We all received gifts from my father that day, the day he returned home from his trip, so all I want to know is this: how _long_ had you been sleeping with him?"

Mrs. Bentley's shoulders were shaking in defeat long before he'd finished. Her tears were copious, but silent. "Thirteen, maybe fourteen years," she whispered. "And he didn't use me. He loved me. We loved each _other_. He said his wife was a cold fish-"

"Have a care," Itachi said dangerously, "how you speak about my mother." When she had hiccuped her way to silence, he went on. "Fourteen years. The time matches. Did the woman in that house leave it recently for any reason? Was she ever _allowed_ to leave? What were your duties regarding her?"

"She did leave about a month ago. Was gone two days. Almost didn't see her leaving; I only go out there once a week. Pure luck I saw her walking past in the town. I…I tried to stop her, but she hit me. Near broke my arm, that little old witch did. I think it was because I didn't deliver her March payment, but no money came for me to give her. I guess…I guess it was because poor Farnsworth was…he was…" And now she seemed ready to mourn the loss of her lover.

Itachi was brought to the point of violence. "Spare me. So the payments were going to you, and you delivered them. Go on."

"I did her weekly shopping and brought it to the house. Saw to it she had bolts of cloth once a year to make clothing. Farnsworth always left detailed lists on what I was to get her and when."

"And when she left for two days, did she take…anything…with her?"

"Like what?"

"Like whatever she is guarding in that house."

Mrs. Bentley wiped at her wet cheeks and looked at him reproachfully. "I think I would know if she was guarding something of value. I've been in that house countless times. Most of the rooms are bare. The one room she uses has her clothes, which aren't many, and her funny foreign things."

He could contain himself no more. "You will take me to this house. Now. I won't tolerate any further delays."

* * *

><p>She led him meekly enough, brushing past him after she'd set his father's clothes down without lifting her head. Outside, he could see there was an hour of daylight left at the very least. The wind was nothing short of brutal. He took the time to cover his head and face with his scarf as he followed Mrs. Bentley's short form down the walk and into the road.<p>

Most of the houses seemed unoccupied. He supposed those families with means had traveled to warmer climes to wait out the winter. This made sense; Mrs. Bentley's house suggested she had means of her own. His father would hardly have shacked up with someone destitute. Fugaku had been fond of saying that poor people were capable of anything. Likewise, this house they were going to would probably be one of the better ones Clinton had to offer.

"Had I known we were going to walk this far I'd have brought my horse," he said when half an hour had passed.

"I usually take the buggy, but you stressed the need for haste."

He detected accusation in her stiff countenance and said nothing more.

-oOo-

The area they passed through was a white wonderland of picturesque houses. These were separated by tracts of land that grew larger and larger. When they finally left the houses behind, it was to forge a new path over unbroken snow through a sparse woods.

The going was rough. Their feet sank into ice and snow that came to their knees, forcing them to lean on each other and lift their legs high. Mrs. Bentley wheezed so that Itachi feared for her heart, while he himself labored to proceed without huffing too badly. His feet were numb, as were his hands, from the many times he'd lost his balance. He didn't think he'd ever been so cold in his life, not even the times he'd been forced to sleep out of doors on his way here. Then he'd at least had Tsukiyomi to huddle against.

He fell again, right on top of Mrs. Bentley. They rolled around in misery until they could right themselves. Snow went up his sleeves, down his collar, and even into his trousers. He was soaked to his skin and close to freezing to death…but Mrs. Bentley surfaced with a gasp, nose dripping, and pointed an unsteady finger. She didn't seem able to stand.

Itachi looked ahead and saw that they'd exited the woods. A stone wall that stretched several hundred yards in either direction sat before them at some distance. Two, perhaps three hundred yards. There was a tall, iron gate dead center of this wall. Beyond wall and gate both he could see a number of trees. The same trees that dotted the stretch of land he'd just traveled. Within the wall they'd been planted with a deliberate eye to concealment. The trees were tall enough to suggest they hadn't been planted recently, so whomever his father had acquired the property from had probably been a private individual.

He could see why his father chose it.

The trees were bare of leaves, but so closely grown as to provide a canopy of thickly interwoven branches. Very little snow lay on the ground beneath. When Itachi finally struggled his way to the gate and wrapped his frozen hands around the icy iron, he saw that the property was quite large. Several acres at the least, and the entire thing surrounded by a wall at least ten feet high. The trees went back some ways, up to and past a large stone house he could see from the gate.

A light flickered in a downstairs window.

Itachi stood with his forehead pressed to the bars for what seemed a long time. He was frozen to his very core as he took in the fact that he was finally at the end. Mrs. Bentley hadn't mentioned anyone else asking about the house, or entering the house… if she was to be believed, then he was the first to come since his father. Which meant he was still in time. And the person who'd sent the letter, no doubt this old woman he kept hearing of, was still in residence. He wasn't too late.

He'd made it.

* * *

><p>His key ring, guarded so closely for so long, was hooked into his trousers. He removed it now and selected one of the keys he knew opened nothing in the city. The third key he tried slid into the lock on the gate and twisted without the slightest trouble.<p>

He closed his eyes in silent prayer for several moments, and only opened them when he heard Mrs. Bentley give a cry that sounded thin and distant in the frigid air. He almost didn't turn around, sure she was only struggling in the snow again, but he heard footsteps crunching directly behind him. When he did turn to look, it was to find Madara looking hale and hearty. And grinning at him.

"So," Madara said pleasantly. "Is this it? Is this where my legacy has been hidden?" He stopped a few feet from Itachi and gazed at him without blinking, his breath steaming from between his wide smile.

A movement to his right caught Itachi's eyes. He saw a cloaked figure stepping away from Mrs. Bentley, who fell forward in the snow in silence. He could just make out the red that dripped from whatever weapon the cloaked figure had used. A quick glance showed more cloaked figures in the distance, closing in on him and Madara, struggling to move rapidly in the unseasonable snow. He calculated that he only had moments before they reached him. He couldn't take on that many by himself, but if he could finish Madara quickly…

"Itachi? Is my legacy inside?"

He was brought back to the present. At first he didn't answer. He was remembering everything he'd suffered. The loss of his father. His mother. His home. His brother. Everything, every tragedy could be laid at this man's feet. And suddenly Itachi felt his fury kindle with amazing swiftness. It settled in his belly, where it was a forge for strength and the sharp thirst for blood. He wasn't surprised in the slightest that Madara should appear here at the point of victory. On the contrary, he felt a species of animal anticipation. That thirst for blood, the raw desire to sink his teeth into Madara and rip his throat out. "Yes," he answered recklessly, hoping Madara would be overcome enough to cloud his judgment. "But you will never lay hands on it."

Madara did indeed tremble through a fit of joy he tried hard to suppress, but his eyes remained unnervingly direct. "Oh, I don't know about that," he purred. "Give me the keys, Itachi." He actually held out his hand for them.

Itachi hooked them inside his trousers again, peripherally aware that one of the cloaked figures who'd come with Madara was nearly upon them.

"Come now, Itachi. This needn't get messy. You're outnumbered. But for that woman, it seems you're all alone out here." No sooner had he spoken than he startled Itachi by lunging at him, weapon in hand, in an effort to throw him off-guard.

Itachi stepped backward into a defensive stance, but the cloaked figure reached them at that same moment. His foot rose in a spray of snow to deliver a stunning kick not at him but at Madara. The blow caught Madara full in the throat, so that his head was snapped backward while the rest of his body continued forward. The result was Madara landing flat on his back and coughing violently.

"He's not alone," the cloaked figure spat. He pulled away his head covering.

"_Sasuke!_" Itachi felt his eyes blur with sudden, hot tears.

That face. Red-cheeked with cold, grinning at seeing him… it was the brother he'd known as a boy. The one who'd been his companion through one escapade after another, until they'd both grown up, grown separate. He could feel the same unity, the same communion he used to feel whenever he'd played with Sasuke in their childhood. That sensation of camaraderie. Solidarity. Their bond as brothers. In that first instant of seeing Sasuke alive, and knowing how hard he must have traveled to reach him at this crucial moment, Itachi thought his heart would break from the sheer weight of the love he bore him.

Movement behind Sasuke had him shoving his brother aside to ram his fist into Madara's face, blocking the knife Madara had in his other hand at the same time. He saw, as he spun from a retaliatory kick, that the other figures were engaged with each other in the distance, and assumed that Sasuke had brought reinforcements as well.

Madara backed away two paces, and stood crouched. His eyes darted to the open gate, just as Itachi felt his brother take up a position to his left, in front of that gate. Sasuke placed himself at a perfect distance to both aid him and guard his back.

"I recall telling you to stay away, but I can't tell you how good it is to have my lieutenant," Itachi said, never taking his eyes off Madara. "Your timing is impeccable."

"As if I'd let you down," Sasuke smirked. "I suppose this is Madara?"

"None other."

"He killed Father."

"Mother as well."

"I don't feel inclined to let that pass, do you?"

"Assuredly not."

"I propose we end his existence."

"I concur most passionately."

Madara's eyes flicked back and forth between them during this exchange. Itachi gazed at him steadily. With the final confrontation at hand, and his brother alive and literally kicking, he felt positively empowered. When Madara attacked, he and Sasuke both closed in eagerly.

The fight was on.

* * *

><p>Kabuto watched Madara's initial charge at Itachi blocked by someone who'd apparently followed them. He could attest to his own inattention while he'd been following Itachi. Between watching his footing and trying to stay back far enough not to be seen -without losing sight of Itachi and the woman- he hadn't looked behind him once. Neither had Madara, apparently.<p>

He'd only entered that saloon, which was right across the street from the room they were renting, to try and gather information. Get the lay of the land, as these Americans said. He'd been surprised beyond the telling of it to see Itachi himself walk in, and them not an hour in Clinton. Such luck! He'd left right behind Itachi, saw Nagato stationed at their second floor window across the street, and signaled him. He gone on to follow Itachi and his new companion. Madara and Nagato had caught up to him some blocks away, where Itachi was entering the woman's house. They'd all hidden behind the hedge of a neighboring house until the two had come out and begun walking again.

Now he looked down at the woman. A single slice to her neck had sufficed for her. He started to move toward Madara and his two opponents, but something whistled through the air behind him. He dropped to the snow instinctively, as something passed where his head had been.

He peeked from beneath his cloak and found a woman, likely _Kumo_ herself, withdrawing another fan from her sleeve. He dodged this one too…and felt something else slam into his shoulder with enough force to bite through the layers of clothing he wore and lodge in his bone. When he looked, he saw a small _shuriken_, oddly shaped. One of those that could double as a hair ornament, he realized. He hadn't seen her withdraw it or throw it; it had been hidden in her hand. His attention had solely been on the fan.

The skill it took to throw two objects from the same hand, with different trajectories, put sweat on his brow.

The _shuriken_ came free with difficulty. He could feel blood, warm and wet, immediately begin flowing down his side. _Of all the opponents, I had to have this one._ He saw that she was moving forward, unwrapping her _obi_, and straightened to meet her with a blade of his own in his hand.

* * *

><p>It soon became obvious that the kick Sasuke had given Madara was a lucky blow. Even charging the man in unison, they were nearly overcome by what felt like superhuman strength in him. He broke free of the hold they were briefly able to pin him in, only to swing his knife-wielding fist at Itachi's face. Itachi bent backward almost double to avoid it. Sasuke took the small window of opportunity wherein Madara was stretched during the farthest reach of the blow to deliver a tight punch to his ribs. Another. Madara swung round through the motion of his swipe at Itachi and nearly caught Sasuke in his side. Sasuke turned into the knife, grabbed the hand and twisted. He brought his foot down on Madara's instep at the same time. The knife fell, but Madara used the leverage of his foot beneath Sasuke's to swing his other leg up and catch him on the side of the head. Sasuke went down. Madara went for the knife, but Itachi tangled a fist in his hair and yanked with enough force to snap his neck. No such thing happened, much to his regret, but Madara was swung sideways. His head collided with the gate and gave a satisfactory <em>bong<em>. The gate shuddered open a few more inches. Madara did not immediately rise. Sasuke got to his feet with the knife and moved to plunge it into Madara's back.

* * *

><p>Hinata fought in the loose tunic and trousers she'd worn beneath her kimono. The garments were native to China, but many Japanese wore them on certain occasions. Now was such a one. It allowed her to crouch low, and swipe her opponent's feet from under him. That he flipped away, even in this cursed snow, caused her not the slightest hesitation. She was able to pull her head back again and again, windmilling her arms for added speed and balance, in avoidance of the blade he carried. Its passage beneath her nose gave her the knowledge that it was poisoned, but that was fine. The <em>shuriken<em> she'd hit him with had been poisoned as well. She need only evade until it took effect.

The stumble in his attack came, and she smiled. Already, she had another fan in hand, ready to deliver the final blow when he was incapacitated.

-oOo-

Kabuto went to one knee as his body rebelled against whatever poison she'd used on him. He wasn't too worried; He was inured against most toxins found in nature. The way his vision blurred, and his breathing became labored, suggested a potent mixture of whiteshade and silkroot. The same paralytic Hidan used on his weapons, for which he had an antidote.

-oOo-

Hinata's smile faded as her opponent withdrew a small folded packet from somewhere in his clothes. He tipped this to his mouth and swallowed the powdery contents. While he was doing so, he let his cloak fall back, to reveal his hair and glasses. _So this is the man Madara keeps close. _That changed things. This wasn't just another member of Akatsuki. She, Sasuke, and Naruto had seen two people with Madara, following Itachi, so she hadn't been sure. But if this was indeed who she thought it was, she couldn't underestimate him.

All this went through her mind when the paper packet was withdrawn. While it was being ingested, and her opponent's head was briefly cast back, she snapped open the fan she held, exposing the spiked pleats, and threw it. As this fan was silken, it was predominantly silent; it took her prey in his exposed throat, opening a bright slash of red that sprayed the snow.

* * *

><p>Nagato stood by one of the few trees in the area, some hundred yards removed from the action, and watched. He'd thought Kabuto done for with that last blow, but he surged to his feet, throat dripping. <em>Must have been a shallow wound<em>. _Kumo _reached behind her head and withdrew two metal objects as long as her forearm. She flicked these open down by her sides to reveal two huge fans tipped with serrated blades that lined the edges of each pleat. Even from here he could see the way the setting sun gleamed on the fans, testifying to the fact that they were metal. These she didn't throw. She held them in her hands as she and Kabuto came together in a flurry of flying snow and flashing limbs.

As gratifying as it was to see Kabuto, that insufferable piece of shit, get what was coming to him, the fight by the gate was much more riveting. He'd been ordered to hang back and only step in when needed, but it didn't stop him monitoring the trio of men scrabbling by the gate.

He had to hand it to the old bastard, Madara could still hold his own in a fight. Itachi and whoever was fighting with him couldn't quite keep Madara down. He recognized the Uchiha singular way of fighting in all three of them. If he had to guess at the outcome, he thought with narrowed eyes, he'd say it would be a draw. Madara was strong and skilled, but he was up against two men, both of them younger. Madara had the zeal of his legacy close at hand to fuel his attacks, but Itachi, at the very least, had rage and revenge to fuel his. Whoever fought with Itachi was also displaying some anger. Nothing to equal the furor of Itachi, though. The other one fought with a cooler head, timing his attacks to assist Itachi whenever that man spun away to catch his breath or was caught by Madara. How Madara kept them both on their toes was admirable, but in the end…ridiculous. The fight would drag on indefinitely at this rate, and he dearly wanted to know what this damned legacy was already.

With this thought, Nagato straightened from the tree he was leaning against and unfolded his arms. He'd go to Madara's assistance, and leave Kabuto to deal with _Kumo_. At the very least-

"Hey."

Nagato turned slowly. He hadn't heard anyone creep up behind him. Certainly hadn't sensed anyone. To find some tall, hulking beast of a man not three feet away gave him a bad start, one he hid well. "And who might you be?" he said carefully. He kept his right hand down by his side and slightly behind him, an action masked by the way he turned to face the guy.

There was no answer. Only the homespun blanket swaddling the top half of the man, and the man himself perfectly still. A pair of remarkably blue eyes peeked out from the folds of the blanket, staring at him unblinkingly. There was a cry from the direction of the gate, at which point the blue eyes flickered in that direction. Something clicked into place for Nagato then. He'd heard Itachi's brother had run off with a sea captain, a large man by the name of Naruto. Blond. And yes, he could see blond brows slanted over those eyes. That would mean the other man fighting Madara was Sasuke –who wasn't dead- and this was Naruto facing him now.

Which meant he had two options: run or die.

He was skilled in hand to hand. Quite as skilled as Kabuto, or so he liked to think. But skill _could_ be overcome by strength, in his experience, and Naruto looked about as immovable as a mountain. Add to that whatever element having Sasuke so near at hand and in danger brought to Naruto's mindset and the outcome of the fight became a foregone conclusion.

_Well…there's a third option._

Perhaps this thought was visible on his face. Surely no more than a second or two had passed since his question, but Naruto stepped toward him, one hand outstretched. He didn't wait to see if the hand held a weapon, but withdrew his own right hand and pointed the pistol he held at Naruto's chest.

The shot was very loud.

-oOo-

When the smoke cleared, Nagato saw that Naruto was still standing. He hadn't budged, other than to stare down at the circle of red blooming on his chest. Nagato looked too, noting that his aim had been perfect. The shot was directly over Naruto's heart. Surely the man would fall down dead in the next-

A hand closed over his. Only then did he realize he was still holding the pistol, still had the thing pointing toward Naruto. The blanket fell away from Naruto's head to reveal that he wasn't wearing much underneath, outside of long johns and corduroy pants held up with suspenders. The hand Naruto closed around his fist continued to close…at least three of his fingers were broken as that fist kept tightening. He was yelling by then, lashing out with his other hand, his feet, butting his head against Naruto's at the end…anything to break that hold and save his hand.

Naruto withstood it all, and merely blinked at the head butt, he saw. The way his bones snapped sounded like dry twigs breaking…and then the pistol was wrenched from his ruined hand and thrown aside. He was able to draw a knife with his other hand and ram it between Naruto's ribs, but another hand closed around his throat with crushing force. A fist was plowed into his midsection with enough strength to have blood surging up his throat and spraying out of his nose and mouth. Doubled over, his back was left exposed to the sledgehammer that came down on it. Something cracked in his back. He was driven to the snow. When he weakly rolled to his side, it was to see the knife still protruding from Naruto's ribs. And then he stopped thinking, letting his instincts take over.

* * *

><p>Kabuto thought maybe he had ten minutes left in him. Fifteen, tops. <em>Kumo <em>was a deadly whirlwind of unthinkable speed with those fans. He felt those poisoned blades slash at him time and again, opening hot lines of pain on his face, his back, his arms, his legs. He could feel the poison trying to overtake him, feel the antidote he'd been forced to take another dose of struggling to combat the effects. The result was he stumbled sometimes, or his hand faltered at the height of a strike, or a jump to evade sometimes went nowhere.

However, he wasn't the only one struggling. _Kumo_ was good, but so was he. _Quite_ good. Madara declared there was none more skilled in the arts than him, unless it was Madara himself. And Kabuto had a few moves the Uchiha patriarch knew nothing about.

So while it was true that he was working to keep his feet under him, _Kumo_ was working just as hard. For every strike she landed, he landed two against her. She was bleeding just as heavily, her hair a straggly mess over her face and down her back. They were both sweating, both unsteady…nearly evenly matched, he judged. He'd seen her slip something into her mouth, something hidden in the cuff at her wrist, and assumed she too had antidotes. She quite lived up to her reputation, but he was equal to her. Which brought him less pleasure than it should have. The fight could go either way, and he was nearing his limits. It wasn't enough for him to hope that she was nearing hers too. He had to end this now, while he still could.

The shot fired somewhere behind him did nothing to break their focus on each other. Neither of them flinched or blinked, where they crouched ten feet apart. Kabuto reached into his shoe, just as he saw the faintest glimmer of something silver peek out from between _Kumo's_ lips…

* * *

><p>The knife was long gone. Itachi had to assume Sasuke had brought no weapon of his own. They all three fought barehanded, but the fight lacked nothing in brutality for this. They each heard the shot, but so wild was the fight between them that the sound faded from memory before the echo of it died away.<p>

Itachi was coatless now. His hair lay in stringy wet ropes that flew whenever he moved, and stung his eyes with sweat. Sasuke was little better. Madara was the same, and yet they continued. Searching, striving, for any advantage they could find.

It was like some macabre dance. One he knew the steps to, but which nevertheless kept him guessing for the simple fact that Madara executed those steps with a level of expertise he was unfamiliar with. He and Sasuke had both trained against their father, in much this same fashion, but he thought even his father's considerable skill would have been called into question here.

The patch of ground they fought on had been trampled of the worst of the snow. They fought in slush, in dead grass revealed by their frenzied movements. It didn't aid them in the slightest, but when Sasuke reached down and flung a handful of slush and ice directly in Madara's eyes, Itachi thought the weather conditions had _some_ uses. Madara staggered back for the space of three seconds and they rushed him.

The man was so flexible. So _strong_. This wasn't the starving madman he'd fought in the manor. On reflection, he didn't know why he was even surprised at Madara's prowess. This was a man who'd survived a blizzard while in possession of a gunshot wound. A man who'd held together an empire that spanned continents. He should have expected nothing less than this staggering display of skill.

Still, there was no question of who would be the victor here, at least not in Itachi's mind. His blood was too hot, his rage boiling, his fury scorching now that it had come to this. He had Madara in his sights and nothing –nothing save God Himself reaching down to snuff Itachi's life- would keep him from murdering the bastard. He would see it done, he swore to himself, if he had to stand here and fight till Judgment Day. He would do it no matter the cost. Madara would not walk away this day.

Punch, kick, strike, block. Block, strike, punch, kick. Always his moves were countered, no matter that he and Sasuke worked as a single unit. Madara's leg swiped at his head. He ducked, followed up with a blow to the man's sternum that had Madara stumbling back, just as Sasuke landed a hard jab to Madara's nose. Madara did something Itachi couldn't see, something blocked by Sasuke's body, that had his brother crumpling forward. Madara lost no time wrapping his hands around Sasuke's head, already twisting…but Sasuke had life in him still, and lifted Madara bodily to slam him against the section of wall immediately to the right of the gate. A muffled _oof_ left Madara as Itachi closed in and brought his foot down with all the force he could manage, right on that spiky black head.

Madara rolled aside at the last second. When he jumped up, it was with the knife in his hand. Itachi saw it for the fraction of a second, before it was buried in Sasuke's belly-

"Sasuke!" he screamed.

* * *

><p>Naruto would have looked around at hearing Sasuke's name screamed like that, but he was too busy trying to stay alive.<p>

He hadn't underestimated his opponent for a second, or overestimated his own skills, but the way the guy had swung his legs up and locked his ankles behind Naruto's head after he'd put him on the ground had been a surprise. A bad one. He'd been yanked off his feet, flipped through the air onto his own back. The guy fought with his broken hand held near his chest, but even so Naruto was barely able to remain on his feet after that.

There was no question of blocking or dodging the lightning fast strikes from the good hand, though he wasn't idle. He was able to block a few of the kicks, but for the most part he just withstood them. He was uncomfortably aware of how slow and heavy he was compared to the red-haired man. His best bet, he decided, was to let the man tire himself out. If he was able to defend himself in the process, good. Rarely was he able to land a blow on that wiry body. It was too quick, to twisty and bendy. Like fighting a snake…

Luck threw him an opening. He blocked a kick to his head with one elbow, and snapped his fist forward and down, catching his adversary squarely in the jewels. There was a bitten off howl, but the move worked. Red was incapacitated for all of five seconds. Long enough for Naruto to step in quickly and reach for the guy's head. It was all he could manage; Red twisted in his grip. He just barely managed to get one arm around the guy's neck, then his head, and hang on for dear life. Their legs got tangled. Naruto jerked himself backward, taking Red with him, and proceeded to tighten his arm on the guy's head. He clamped his hand over Red's nose and mouth for good measure, suffocating him as well as strangling him, while his other hand reached to block Red's free hand…the one not pinned beneath his body. He was more beat than he realized, though, since Red snaked his hand past Naruto's and grabbed hold of the knife in his side.

Beyond absently blocking blows aimed at that knife, Naruto could truthfully say he'd forgotten about it. Couldn't even feel it. He felt when it was ripped free now, releasing a hot spray of blood. Could see his muscles had twisted the blade to a near corkscrew shape. This made it even more painful as Red rammed it into him again and again…anywhere his fading strength and diminishing struggles would allow him to reach.

Naruto yelled when the blade was pulled out the first time, but only grunted at each subsequent stab. He was fading too, black encroaching on his vision of the twilit sky. The hand he'd used to try and stop that knife had been impaled to his chest with one of those stabs, the knife ripped free and brought down again. Again. Again.

Someone screamed Sasuke's name.

He couldn't look. Hung on. Kept his arm tight about that head, his hand clamped in a death grip over the nose and mouth. Squeezing. Squeezing. _Please be okay, Sasuke._

That knife…

* * *

><p>The man had been standing far down the street, looking in their direction. As they were all making for the hotel, none of them had seen this until Sasuke reached out and clutched Naruto's arm. "My God, look! It's Itachi! He <em>sees<em> us!"

Swaddled to the eyes they might all be, but they all dutifully looked. It was indeed Itachi, though whether or not he recognized them in their muffling attire was anyone's guess.

Neji stared, as Sasuke and Naruto promptly fell into a debate as to what should be done. Itachi looked earthier in his scruffy clothing, more real, than Neji had ever seen him. For once his hair wasn't shiny or well-groomed. Just pulled back into its customary low ponytail. His clothes were neat, but obviously careworn. And he'd never looked more alluring.

"I'm going over to him," Sasuke announced.

"I'm coming with you," Naruto said.

"_And I will accompany both of you, as I see someone else is watching Itachi-san. That one there, behind the corner of that building," _Hinata said. She tightened her blanket around her head. "_Pray it is Madara himself."_

"I'm right behind all of you," Neji began.

"_No. See that Milly is settled into a room for me, and procure rooms for everyone else."_

He stepped close to her as Sasuke and Naruto set off for Itachi, who was now leaving with some woman, and spoke for her ears alone_. "Is that why you forced me to come? To be your servant?" _

"_You are all but useless. I should have left you."_

"_Has anyone ever told you what a bitch you are?"_

She smiled. Better. Better than the nerves and doubt she'd been seeing in his eyes for the past two days. All she needed to do was keep his anger hot enough, keep him focused, and all might yet be well. _"Careful, Neji-kun. You-"_

"_This might be a novel thing to your ears as well, but I'm going to say it: Fuck. You." _He waited a moment. "_Bitch."_

He didn't bother to watch her turn away. Instead, he cast a measuring glance at the distance Sasuke and Naruto had already covered, then looked ahead of them to where Itachi and his companion were disappearing around a street corner.

In the hotel lobby, he ordered three rooms and had Milly settled into the nicest one in record time. He practically flew out the door ten minutes after entering it, and took off down the street, in the direction he'd seen everyone go.

-oOo-

He got lost, of course. Or rather, he had no idea which way to go once he rounded that street corner. By asking the few pedestrians he found out and about if they'd seen a big guy with a more average fellow, he was able to piece together directions. He was led thus, in this halting, painstaking manner, until the houses fell away behind him, along with the city proper, and he found himself standing before a stretch of land that seemed endless. There were footsteps in the snow, however. Bending close, he could make out Naruto's large tread mixed with a multitude of others.

He ran.

It was tiring in the snow, which was piled in drifts up to his knee in places, but he had a bad feeling. _Useless, am I? I'll give that bitch useless._

-oOo-

He was winded long before he reached a destination, but the distant sound of a shot being fired drove him to push himself harder. The certain knowledge that Itachi must now be engaged in some fight had him pumping his arms and legs, churning right through the snow rather than lifting his feet out of it each time. The strain on his muscles was immense; they burned with the exertion, but he went faster. Pushed harder. Dug deeper, until he saw a clearing ahead in the gloaming, and tiny, shadow-like figures moving.

Hinata was closest, spinning away from her opponent in a spray of blood that had her on hands and knees. Neji charged ahead without stopping, soundless in his advance, and leapt just as the man turned his head in surprise. Neji landed with both legs around the guy's neck, swung himself sideways and down, and flipped the guy with him. The man's neck snapped beneath this unstoppable force, but Neji barely noticed. He landed sitting on the man's chest, but was up and running before the man's body had fully settled.

He paused to see Madara being taken on by Itachi and Sasuke both, but turned his eyes to something happening by a tree. He could see a blond head down in the snow…

The movement stopped just as he skidded to his knees beside Naruto. It was some red-haired man he'd seen, his arm coming down a final time. He was dead, Neji saw. His face almost purple, eyes bulging, Naruto's hand clamped with terrible force over his nose and mouth. Very dead, as was Naruto, he saw with a sick lurch to his insides. The blue eyes stared upward, blind.

Neji bit his lip savagely, but the tears swelled anyway. He inched closer, shuffling on his knees as he cataloged all the wounds. The many places the knife had fallen. Even now, the redhead's hand was locked around the hilt. He yanked it away with a cry of rage…right before he pried the man free completely and shoved him away from Naruto. He needed a moment. Several moments, before he turned and put a shaking hand over Naruto's eyes, closing them.

They blinked beneath his palm. The lashes were feather light against his skin.

"Naruto?" he gasped. "Can you hear me?"

He was right by Naruto's face, or he wouldn't have heard the whisper. "Sasuke."

Neji carefully moved closer and lifted Naruto's head into his lap as he glanced toward the gated house. "He's fine."

"Check…him. Please."

Neji was more concerned with the small fountain of blood that bubbled over Naruto's lips with these words. He tried to keep track of all the many places Naruto was bleeding from and couldn't. "Seeing as he's on his feet, and giving quite as good as he's getting from the look of things, I'm staying right here. _Jesus_, Naruto…" So much blood. So much. Naruto's eyes were closing. "Hey. _Hey_. Stay with me, bub. You hear me? _Stay_ with me. Okay? Naruto?" He shook him slightly.

Naruto's head suddenly became a lot heavier on his lap. Neji swallowed thickly.

* * *

><p>Sasuke had seen the knife, but was already turning so that the blade sliced rather than gutted. He grabbed Madara's arm, one hand wrapped around the wrist, the other punching the extended elbow inward. The snap of bone was drowned by Madara's howl, but even this was cut short. In a move he would not have believed his brother capable of, Itachi jumped, grabbed the bars of the gate, and leveraged himself upward. From this position he threw his legs over Madara's shoulders from behind, locking them beneath his arms, thus immobilizing them. Madara grabbed at the strangling legs with his good hand, but Sasuke bent, picked up the knife that had been dropped, and rammed it home in one downward stroke. Rammed it right in Madara's eye socket.<p>

The scream was long and terrible, but Itachi kicked Madara away, where he staggered and flailed in a drunken circle. He dropped to the ground, stalked to him, and ripped the knife free. Madara's voice became a babble of incoherent Japanese, his one remaining eye fixed on Itachi with a fury that was hellish to see.

Itachi did see it, and embraced Madara with the arm not holding the knife. Burying one hand in his hair, he brought his mouth close to Madara's ear. "Burn in hell," he whispered. And jerked the knife into Madara's mid-section. He twisted it one way, as Madara stiffened in his arms. Twisted it the other way. Closed his eyes and relished the gush of warmth around his hand. Relished and savored each spasm and twitch of that body as he twisted from side to side again, coring as deep as he could possibly go. Madara's hands beat frantically at his back, but this was barely felt. A final twist, then he tightened his grip on the knife and dragged it upward, parting skin and muscle, and scraping along ribs. Madara gasped and jerked in his grip but Itachi didn't let go. Not even when he could feel the hot spill of Madara's guts on his feet. He didn't release his hold until Madara was still. He sagged in Itachi's arms.

Itachi unlocked his arm, withdrew the knife, and stepped back.

Sasuke had one forearm over the gash in his stomach, one hand closed over his mouth to hold in his gorge. The look on his brother's face when he turned from Madara…wasn't his brother. It was someone who looked like him. Someone splashed liberally with gore, whose face was devoid of all expression, who didn't even glance down as he walked away from the crumpled body in the snow.

"Itachi? Are you-"

Itachi walked right past him, pushed the gate the rest of the way open, and began walking up the snow-covered path that led to the house. Sasuke watched him a moment, but the hoarse sound of someone calling Naruto's name snapped his head around. He saw two people huddled over something in the distance, something that looked very much like a large body he knew too well, and felt his blood run cold. "No."

* * *

><p>He had sense enough to look for threats. His eyes swept left and right as he walked. His body refused to release the hot, thrumming grip it had on his bloodlust; it sang in his veins even now, flaring his nostrils as he made sure there were no lurking figures, no more knives in the dark, or supporters of Madara. He held the knife with white knuckles, and he moved slowly. Steadily, but cautiously.<p>

The house stood harmlessly. Night had completely fallen now. The flickering light from before seemed brighter because of this. He walked toward it, toward the double doors, as he mounted the wide shallow stairs in front. The porch held snow-filled urns shaped like dragons, one to either side of the door. Beveled lead glass windows, narrow, were on each side of the doors, which seemed made of solid mahogany. He could see nothing in these windows, nothing through them.

The doors were locked.

His key ring. Still with him, even now. He withdrew it, shifting the knife to his other hand to do so, and noticed for the first time that his hand was coated with drying blood. He flexed it, closed it. The blood felt stiff.

It took trying several of the keys he didn't know before he found the right one. Into the lock it went. He turned it, took it out, pushed down on the door handle, and pressed the door itself inward. It opened without the faintest squeal of hinges.

-oOo-

The interior was dark, and smelled of freshly brewed tea. Clean. The wooden floors were spotless. No furniture. Foyer held a coat rack devoid of coats or hats. Rooms to left and right. Empty. Stairs leading up. Darkness up there. The light was bright in a room down a hall that sat ahead. He moved toward it.

There were no pictures on the walls. No carpet. His footsteps were slow and echoing in the silence. The room ahead of him shone brightly, it's door open. The light spilled into the hall, but he couldn't see inside. The angle was wrong. He paused where he was, halfway down the hall, and listened. Nothing. Someone was in there, had likely heard his footfalls, but they weren't making a sound.

Knife gripped in one hand, keys in the other. He continued down the hall, moving slower this time.

He stopped again just outside the doorway. Anyone coming out of the room would find him immediately to their left. He stared downward, at the floor. Listening. He heard nothing, not even breathing…but he could _feel_ someone in there. Feel them standing just as still, listening just as hard. He tried to use this new sense to discover if anyone else was in the house. He couldn't tell, but the darkness all around him felt like a tangible weight on his skin. He realized his blood had cooled at last, to be replaced with a chilling watchfulness. He was poised, ready for attack, alert to the highest possible degree.

Without warning he stepped into the doorway, knife raised.

* * *

><p>There was none. No attack, nothing but an old woman standing crouched against the far wall with a small dagger in her gnarled hands. She saw him as he saw her, both of them frozen in surprise for the space of several heartbeats. And then she was erupting into furious Japanese, brandishing her weapon as he finally looked away from her to take in the smallish room.<p>

There was a neatly made futon in the corner, atop which sat several tiny, handmade pillows. A low table, scarcely six inches off the floor, sat in the opposite corner. There were items on this table. Incense. A small statue. Things he thought labeled the table and its contents as a shrine of sorts. Several lanterns stood about the room, he saw when he turned around. One sat atop a chest that he bent to get a closer look at, but it had no lock on it. He opened it, and found clothes folded in orderly little piles. The chest itself was a thing of beauty. Superior craftsmanship. Wooden. Painted and carved with dragons and other fanciful creatures, and topped by an elaborate engraving of the Uchiha fan. He ran his hands, even bloody as they were, over each carving, each painting…before plunging them into the clothing and beginning to search.

The woman screeched and moved somewhere behind him. Mindful of the dagger she had, he rose to his feet, turned, and was in time to catch both her hands in one of his as she tried to bring some kind of paddle down on his head. The dagger was tucked into her _obi_, he saw. He took it, holding her frail strength at bay easily, and tucked it into his own trousers before taking the paddle and examining it closely. Something servants used to beat rugs with, he thought after a moment of scrutiny. And yes, there was a beautiful rug on the floor, he saw when he looked. More dragons, these black on a red background.

Looking around the room once more, he thought there was an overwhelmingly Chinese feel about the décor, but the woman was yammering on and on in Japanese, even now. Finally, he looked at her.

She was so old that her cheeks were smooth. There were copious amounts of wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, though. Her hair was white and long enough to sit in a bun on her head. Her attire was much like Hinata-san's. Thick socks sat on her feet, parted in a manner that suggested she did not wear American shoes. Her eyes were small and bright and alert. She was silent now, as he met her gaze.

He didn't care who she was. That she was set here to guard the legacy seemed obvious to him, but there was nothing of great value that he could see in this room. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out his key ring, selected a specific key, and held it up before her eyes. He made sure the tiny symbol on it was visible, and noted the precise second she saw it. The fight went out of her and she wilted in his grip.

"_Do you know who I am?"_

"_Uchiha Fugaku's son." _She bobbed over and over in several bows, trying to gesture to something in a corner behind her. He looked over her shoulder and saw a photograph of himself and Sasuke, taken three years ago. He thought back to the tirade she'd launched at him while he'd been examining the room and realized he'd heard her words, despite being distracted. Something about her money being late, and him barging in unannounced and scaring her. His filthy shoes on her carpet. His bloody hands on her things. Her money.

This _was_ who'd sent the letter then. He looked at her once more, wondering why –if she knew him well enough to know he spoke Japanese- she'd even bothered to write that note in English. But no matter.

"_What does this key open?"_

He let her go when she tugged her hands free, and watched as she went to her table and retrieved one of the lanterns. She walked in no manner he'd ever seen before, gliding across the floor with more grace than even Hinata-san. When she left the room, he followed close behind.

* * *

><p>The likelihood of an attack now was very slim, but Itachi reflected that he'd been blind enough, had underestimated his situation and the players in it enough since this whole thing began. He put the keys in their customary place now to remove both the knife and the dagger and hold them ready, low down by his sides.<p>

The old woman moved along in front of him, lantern held aloft, her kimono whispering on the floor. She turned a corner up ahead.

They came to a cavernous stone kitchen. He thought they would pass out of the door he could see. It led to the back half of the property, but the woman veered left and stood before another door, one he presumed led to a closet or pantry of some kind.

He was right…and wrong. When the woman opened the door, it did reveal a tiny stone storeroom, but the shelves were bare of any food save a large sack of rice. In the floor, however, was an iron ring attached to a square wooden door. She held the lantern out for him to take and pointed to it. "_Down there," _she said.

"_You must think me mad," _Itachi sneered. _"I'm to go down there and leave you here, at my back, where you can lock me in or else throw something down on my head? Lead the way, old woman. "_

She muttered something about stupid men, but climbed down once Itachi had swung the door open. He could see nothing but pitch blackness and the first few rungs of the ladder she used. The light went with her, growing smaller until she stood at the bottom and gazed up at him. Itachi relinquished one of the blades to climb down, and joined her some seconds later, where she turned and began shuffling along an earthen tunnel.

His surroundings could not be more bizarre, Itachi thought. But if the legacy warranted this level of protection it was probably something beyond price. The sheer amount of people Madara had been willing to kill, kidnap, or bribe gave testimony to this. That he himself was so near to it now, after all this time –after his own parents had been murdered, and Sasuke put in such danger- made him swallow. He had to know what it was. What had shaped the course of his father's actions, and thus his and Sasuke's, all these years.

-oOo-

The tunnel seemed very long. _Was_ very long. Surely they were no longer beneath the house. All manner of creeping crawling denizens of the dark shied away from the lantern light. Carcasses crunched suspiciously under his feet, and cobwebs were thick in the earthy juncture between wall and ceiling. Here and there he could see wooden slats, no doubt put in place long ago to form this tunnel, but even he could see how rotten these were. He did not think the passage was altogether sound. Visions of the earth collapsing on them both and burying them alive shortened his breathing. But even then, he would claw his way forward. He would see an end to this nightmare one way or another.

Finally, an end in sight. A door up ahead. In the stuttering light he could make out the same symbol from the letter and his key. Here it was large, lacquered red. It covered the entire top half of the door.

The old woman stopped in front of it and stepped to one side. Her eyes were on the floor.

_Right then, _Itachi thought. _This is it. _

* * *

><p>Though he clutched the key ring hard enough to hurt his hand, he couldn't immediately bring himself to open the door. He was struck with a sudden and debilitating case of nerves. It hit him then, just what the arrival of this moment had cost him, and he shook hard. It passed quickly, to leave him no calmer, but still resolute. It was just…if he opened this door and found nothing more than a pile of jewels or a painting, or a lost scroll from some long-forgotten century, he thought he would go mad. To endure so much for something so mundane would be the final straw.<p>

The key ring was in his hand, the right key selected, with him having no memory of retrieving either.

The lock was polished smooth by daily handling. That halted him with the key barely turned. Why would the legacy, whatever it was, need to be visited daily?

But as he pushed the door open –also soundless- he knew. He knew it as a feeling of swelling comprehension expanded in his guts, knew it as every piece of information he'd heard in connection to the legacy came together in his mind. He knew it as he looked around the empty room, squinted and gagged against the horrible stench, and turned his head to the farthest corner, away from that smell. Not empty, he saw. There was an oblong set against the far wall. Something low and wooden.

A child.

It was male, he could see. Sitting upright on that wooden thing –a bed of sorts- and clearly just risen from sleep. He wore nothing but loose trousers in the frigid room. His size suggested early teens. His face…

He was looking at Itachi. Itachi gazed back, stumbling into the room on numb legs. He stared without blinking, even while some tiny part of his brain kept track of the old woman to make sure she didn't slam the door on him and lock it. After a minute or two, he moved farther into the room for a closer look at the boy. _This_ was Madara's legacy? Hinata had described the man as sterile. If Madara had also known this of himself, then sired a child, he could well imagine the man moving heaven, hell, and everything in between to retrieve him.

He stopped when he was in front of the boy.

The hair was black. Black as Sasuke's, and spiked in a wild cloud of disorder on his head. And the eyes were black. Very dark, and hooded. They looked up and down Itachi with clear disdain. The skin was very pale. And the child looked altogether too familiar.

He almost expected the attack. The boy lunged up and swung a clumsy fist at him. He retaliated without thinking, his mind barely present as details continued to come together in him. The boy dropped at his feet, stunned by the blow to his head. Itachi stared down at where he rolled painfully to his stomach.

_Ah, _he thought, seeing the boy's bare back. _That explains much._


End file.
